(ThcoUinical  ^cminavM, 


BL  240  .D85  1847  v. 4 
Duncan,  Henry,  1774-1846 
Sacred  philosophy  of  the 
seasons 


SACRED  PHILOSOPHY 


SEASOIS; 


ILLUSTRATING 


THE  PERFECTIONS   OF   GOD, 


PHENOMENA   OF   THE   YEAR. 


BY  THE 

REV.   HENRY  DUNCAN,   D.D., 

RUTHWELL. 


WINTER. 

He  giveth  snow  like  wool :    He  scattereth  the  hoar-frost  like  ashes.     He  cast- 
eth  forth  his  ice  hke  morsels.     Who  can  stand  before  his  cold  1'— Psalms. 


NEW  YORK : 

ROBERT  CARTER,  58  CANAL  STREET, 
AND  PITTSBURG,  56  MARKET  STREET. 

1847. 


There  is  a  philosophy  which  nobly  exercises  our  reasonable  faculties, 
and  is  highly  serviceable  to  religion  : — Such  a  study  of  the  works  of 
God  as  leads  us  to  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  confirms  our  faith  in 
Him.  But  there  is  a  philosophy  which  is  vain  and  deceitful,  which 
sets  up  the  wisdom  of  man  against  the  wisdom  of  God,  and  while  it 
pleases  men's  fancies,  hinders  their  faith.' — Davenant. 


PREFACE 


Of  all  the  works  on  Natural  Theolog-y,  which,  hi 
former  or  recent  times,  have  enlightened  and  delighted 
the  pious  mind,  none  of  any  great  extent,  or  of  much 
importance,  have  been  devoted  to  the  illustration  of  the 
Divine  perfections,  in  connexion  with  the  Seasons  of 
the  Year.  Yet  this  is  a  view  at  once  interesting  and 
popular.  The  changes  of  the  seasons  display,  in  them- 
selves, a  remarkable  and  beneficent  arrangement ;  and 
the  adaptations  by  which  vegetable  and  animal  life  are 
fitted  to  exist,  and  to  fulfil  the  end  of  their  creation, 
during  these  changes,  afford  ample  materials  for  a  beau- 
tiful and  striking  exhibition  of  the  power,  wisdom,  and 
goodness  of  the  Creator. 

In  investigating  this  subject,  we  meet  every  where 
also,  with  the  most  remarkable  analogies  in  the  cha- 
racter of  the  material  world,  with  that  which  is  so  dis- 
tinctly impressed  on  Revealed  Truth ;  and,  while  we 
hence  derive  a  very  satisfactory  argument  in  proof  of 
their  origin  from  the  same  Almighty  and  Intelligent 
Author,  we  find  that  these  kindred  sources  of  infor- 
mation continually  throw  a  light,  clear,  consistent,  and 
useful  on  each  other,  the  latter  exalting  the  former,  and 
raising  it  to  the  dignity  of  a  perfect  science. 

The  attention  of  scientific  men,  while  it  has  of  late 
been  very  successfully,  has,  perhaps,  been  too  exclu- 
sively, directed  to  the  book  of  Nature,  in  illustration 


IV  PREFACE. 

of  the  Divine  perfections  ;  and  those,  who  peruse  their 
writings,  may  be  induced  to  overlook  the  highly  im- 
portant truth,  that,  after  all,  natural  rehgion  affords  but 
an  imperfect  glimpse  into  the  moral  attributes  of  the 
Eternal ;  and  that,  without  the  aid  of  a  direct  commu- 
nication from  Heaven,  a  most  ominous  gloom  hangs 
over  these  attributes,  and  sheds  mystery,  anxiety,  and 
doubt,  on  the  future  destiny  of  man. 

One  great  object  of  the  Author,  in  the  following 
pages,  is  to  counteract  this  unhappy  tendency,  and  to 
show  that  the  God  of  Nature  can  only  be  known,  in  the 
perfection  of  his  character,  when  regarded  as  the  God 
of  Grace  ;  and  that  it  is  not  till  the  light  of  Revelation 
shines  on  the  Divine  operations,  that  the  clouds  and 
darkness,  which  surround  the  throne  of  the  Most  High, 
are  dispersed.  Under  the  illumination  of  this  celestial 
light,  the  study  of  creation  is,  in  the  highest  degree, 
calculated  to  expand  the  understanding,  enlighten  the 
judgment,  and  improve  the  heart.  If  it  be  true,  that 
the  human  mind  takes  its  character  from  the  nature  of 
the  subjects  with  w^iich  it  is  conversant,  we  may  as- 
suredly expect  that  it  will  be  ennobled  and  refined, 
when  it  is  humbly,  judiciously,  and  piously  occupied  in 
investigating  the  attributes  and  works  of  Him,  who  is 
the  First  and  the  Last,  the  Greatest  and  the  Best. 

The  most  important  and  animating  views  of  the 
Creator  and  His  operations,  in  reference  to  the  Sea- 
sons, are  found  scattered  through  many  publications, 
which  it  has  been  the  agreeable  task  of  the  Writer  to 
combine  in  a  new  series,  and  render  generally  accessi- 
ble. In  doing  this,  he  has  frequently  quoted  the  pre- 
cise words  of  the  various  authors  from  whom  he  has 
borrowed  his  facts.  He  has  no  ambition  to  acquire 
fame  as  an  original  writer  ;  his  more  humble,  but  per- 
haps not  less  useful  aim,  being  to  instruct  and  edify 


PREFACE. 


those  who  may  not  be  in  possession  of  many  works  on 
Natural  Theology,  by  rendering  them  acquainted  with 
the  discoveries,  which  have  been  made  by  others,  in  the 
most  interesting  of  all  sciences. 

The  plan  adopted  by  the  well-known,  but  somewhat 
antiquated,  German  author,  Sturm,  in  his  'Reflec- 
tions,' has  been  so  far  imitated,  that  the  Work  contains 
a  paper  for  every  day  of  the  year,  and  is  thus  well 
suited  for  stated  family  reading.  The  chief  reasons 
which  induced  Sturm  to  give  his  Work  this  form,  as 
he  himself  observed  in  the  advertisement  to  the  first 
German  edition,  were, — '  First,  to  provide  a  sufficient 
variety  ;  and,  secondly,  that  the  reader  might  be  led  to 
sanctify  each  day,  by  contemplating  the  works  of 
God.'  These  are  also  the  motives  of  the  present  wri- 
ter ;  but  the  desultory  manner  and  declamatory  style 
of  this  author  he  has  endeavoured  to  avoid  ;  and  a  more 
systematic  method  has  been  attempted,  replete  with 
facts  and  illustrations,  so  as  to  form  a  whole,  contain- 
ing, what  the  title  expresses,  the  '  Sacred  Philos- 
ophy OF  THE  Seasons.' 

It  is  customary,  in  enumerating  the  Seasons,  to 
commence  with  Spring  ;  and  it  may  be  proper,  in  a 
few  words,  to  state  one  or  two  reasons  which  induced 
the  Author  to  depart  from  that  order,  and  begin  with 
Winter. 

Winter  is  not  the  death  of  Nature,  neither  is  it  mere- 
ly the  season  of  Nature's  sleep,  after  the  labours  of  the 
vegetable  world  are  finished  :  It  is  much  more.  It  is 
the  season  of  gestation,  when  nature  is  preparing  in 
her  womb  the  embryo  of  the  coming  year.  A  thousand 
secret  operations  are  in  progress,  by  which  the  seeds, 
buds  and  roots  of  future  plants  and  flowers,  are  not 
only  preserved  but  elaborated,  that,  when  the  prolific 
months  of  Spring  arrive,  they  may  burst  into  life  in  all 
1* 


Vi  PREFACE. 

the  freshness  and  vigour  of  a  new  birth.  This,  which 
is  both  a  more  important  and  a  more  interesting  view 
than  that  which  is  commonly  entertained,  represents 
Winter  as  the  first  stage  in  the  processes  and  develop- 
ments of  the  revolving  year,  and  fixes  it  as  the  natural 
commencement  of  a  Work,  which  has  for  its  object  an 
exhibition  of  the  Sacred  Philosophy  of  the  Sea- 
sons. 

There  is  another  circumstance,  too,  which  involves 
no  principle,  indeed,  hke  the  former,  but  which  renders 
the  plan  adopted  a  matter  at  least  of  convenient  ar- 
rangement. Winter  is  the  season  in  which,  although 
the  hand  of  a  beneficent  and  wonder-working  Creator 
is  every  where  to  be  distinctly  traced,  there  are  few 
objects  of  interest,  in  comparison  with  the  other  seasons, 
to  arrest  the  attention,  and  to  engage  the  mind  in  de- 
vout contemplation  of  the  Divine  perfections.  An 
author,  studying  to  gain  the  pubhc  favour,  must,  doubt- 
less, regard  this  as  a  disadvantage  in  making  his  first 
appearance  ;  but  then,  it  has  this  counterbalancing 
use,  that  space  is  thus  gained  for  some  necessary  intro- 
ductory papers  on  the  broader  and  more  general  cos- 
mical  arrangements,  which  are  peculiar  to  none  of  the 
seasons,  but  common  to  them  all.  As  the  plan  oi  daily 
reflections,  of  a  certain  moderate  length,  obliges  the 
Author  to  stretch  his  literary  offspring,  as  it  were,  on 
Procrustes'  bed,  the  convenience  of  including  such  pa- 
pers in  the  volume  devoted  to  Winter  will  be  readily 
acknowledged. 

The  expressions  'contrivance,'  'ingenuity,'  'com- 
pensation for  defects,'  (fee,  as  applied  to  the  operations 
of  the  Eternal,  seem,  in  some  sense,  to  detract  from  the 
infinite  perfection  of  His  character,  and  to  bring  the 
exercise  of  His  attributes  too  much  on  a  level  with  the 
operations  of  the  human  mind.     But  this  arises  from  a 


PREFACE.  Vll 

defect,  not  merely  in  the  language,  but  the  conceptions 
of  men ;  and,  while  we  are  sensible  of  the  inadequacy 
of  these  expressions,  we  know  not  how  to  apply  a  rem- 
edy. In  this,  the  Writer  only  follows  in  the  track 
of  others. 

The  Sunday  papers  contain  religious  and  moral  re- 
flections, generally  suggested  by  the  subject  of  discus- 
sion on  the  preceding  week. 

A  few  papers  have  been  kindly  furnished  by  inge- 
nious friends,  Avhich  are  distinguished  from  those  of  the 
Author,  by  being  subscribed  with  their  initials. 

RuTHWELL  Manse. 


NOTE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


A  SECOND  Edition  of  the  two  first  Volumes  of  this 
Work  having  been  called  for,  while  the  third  and 
fourth  volumes  were  going  through  the  press,  large 
impressions  of  these  two  latter  volumes  were  printed 
to  meet  the  expected  demand  ;  and  the  whole  Series 
having  now  been  completed,  and  sold  off,  a  new  issue 
of  the  entire  Work  is  required.  This  has  induced  the 
Author  to  revise  it  with  care,  and  to  make  such  ad- 
ditions and  alterations,  as  the  rapid  advance  of  science, 
even  during  the  short  interval  that  has  elapsed  since 
the  production  of  the  first  Volume,  has  rendered  pro- 
per. He  trusts  that  the  improvements  which  have 
been  made  in  this  Edition,  will  show  that  he  is  not 
insensible  to  the  value  of  that  approbation  with  which 
the  Public  has  honoured  his  humble  labours. 

RuTHWELL  Manse. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

I.  Sunday. — Goodness  of  God  to  his  Rational  Creatures,        .        .  13 
The  Character  impressed  on  Nature — Compensation,      .        .        .16 

The  Character  impressed  on  Nature — Contrivance,         ...  20 

COSMICAL    ARRANGEMENTS. 

Globular  figure  of  the  Earth, 24 

Circulation  in  the  Atmosphere  and  Ocean, 27 

The  Atmosphere, 30 

Ignis  Fatuus, i         .         .  33 

Ti.  Sunday. — General  Aspect  of  Winter, 38 

Phosphorescence,     ;        .        .        .        , 41 

Aurora  Borealis, 44 

Meteoric  Showers,           .        . 49 

Variety  of  Climates, 54 

Practical  Effect  of  the  Commercial  Spirit  produced  by  a  Variety  of 

Climates,          .         .         .        ^ 57 

Adaptation  of  Organized  Existences  to  Seasons  and  Climates,     .     .  60 

III.  Sunday. — TTie  Omnipresence  of  God, 63 

Adaptation  of  Organized  Existences  to  the  Tropical  Regions,          .  67 
Adaptation   of  Organized   Existences  to  Temperate  and  Polar  Cli- 
mates,       • 71 

The  Balance  Preserved  in  the  Animal  and  Vegetable  Creation,       .  74 

Night. — Its  Alternation  with  Day, 81 

Night.— Sleep, 84 

Night.— Dreaming, 88 

IV. — Sunday. — This  World  a  State  of  Discipline,            ...  94 

THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

General  Remarks, 99 

Gravitation  and  Inertia, 102 

The  Planetary  System,            105 

The  Sun  as  the  Source  of  Light  and  Heat,            ....  108 


«.  CONTENTS 

Page 

Vlotioris  of  the  Planets, m 

/iesisting  Medium, ^  ^^ 

/_ — SiNDAY. — Divine  and  Human  Knowledge  Compared,       .        .     120 

'^he  Satellites, ^^ 

i'.eUttive  Proportions  of  the  Planetary  System,        ....     126 
distance  of  the  Fixed  Stars,  .         .         .        .  •        .130 

mimensity  of  the  Universe,  :         .     132 

Nebulae, .        .     136 

Binary  Stars,  .        . ^^^ 

THE    MICROSCOPE. 

VI.  Sunday. — Discoveries  of  the   Telescope  and  Microscope    Com- 
pared, ......-•  •     144 

Wonders  of  the  Microscope.— Infasory  Animalcules,      .        .        .149 

HYBERNATION    OF    PLANTS. 

Plants  and  Animals  compared, 153 

Adjustment  of  the  Constitution  of  Plants  to  the  Annual  Cycle         .     156 
Physiological  condition  of  Plants  during  Winter,  .         .         .     160 

Physiological  Condition  of  Plants  continued,  .         .         .         .164 

HYBERNATION    OF    INSECTS. 

Instinct,  .        .        .        .        ' 167 

VII.  Sunday. — On  Seeing  God  in  His  Works,         ,        .         .         .171 

Reason  in  the  Lower  Animals, 175 

Eggs, 180 

Various  States, 185 

Bees, 190 

The  Snail, 197 

The  Beetle, 200 

viii.  Sunday. — Greatness  of  God  even  in  the  Smallest  Things,       .  206 

MIGRATIONS    OF    BIRDS   AND    QUADRUPEDS    DURING   WINTER. 

Birds,  209 

Birds  Continued,     ...  213 

Birds  which  partially  Migrate,         .        .        .        ...        .        •  219 

Quadrupeds, ;         .        .         .  223 

Christmas-Day, 228 

No  Season  Unpleasant  ti  the  Cheerful  Mind,        ,        .        .    233 


CONTENTS.  Xi 

Pago. 

IX,  Sunday. — Proofs  of  Divine  Benevolence  in  the  Works  of  Crea- 
tion,           237 

MIG-RATION    OF    FISHES. 

The  Sturgeon,  the  Herring,  the  Cod,  &c., 242 

Cetaceous  Animals, 245 

Migration  from  the  Sea  into  Rivers, 250 

Migration  of  Eels,           .         .         . 254 

New- Year's- Day, 258 

Migration  of  the  Land-Crab, 263 

X.Sunday. —  Winter  an  Emblem  of  Death, 2G8 

HYBERNATION    OF    QUADRUPEDS. 

Clothing, ^       ...  272 

Storing  Instincts,             277 

Torpidity, 282 

HYBERNATION    OF    MAN. 

Privation  stimulates  his  Faculties, 287 

Provisions  for  his  Comfort,               292 

Adaptation  of  his  Constitution  to  the  Season,          ....  297 

XI.  Sunday. — The  Unceasing  and  Universal  Providence  of  God,     .  300 

INHABITANTS    OF    THE    POLAR    REGIONS. 

The  Esquimaux, 305 

Food  and  Clothing, 309 

Dwellings  and  Fire, 313 

FROST. 

Provision  for  causing  Ice  to  float  on  the  Surface,  .         .         .316 

The  Expansive  and  Non-conducting  Power  of  Ice,         ,         .         .  319 

Amusements  connected  with  it, 322 

XII.  Sunday. —  Winter    not    Monotonous. — Boundless     Variety  of 
Nature, 325 

Effects  of  Frost  in  the  Northern  Regions, 330 

Agency  of  Frost  in  Mountainous  Regions, 333 

Hoar  Frost.— Foliations  on  Window-Glass,  &c.      .         .                  .  337 

Beneficent  Contrivances  relative  to  Snow, 340 

Sagacity  and  Fidelity  of  the  Dog  in  Snow,              ....  345 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

GEOLOGY. 

Page. 
Its  Phenomena  consistent  with  the  Mosaic  Account  of  the  Crea- 
tion,          352 

XIII.  Sunday. —  TTie  Difficulty  of  Comprehending  the  Operalkms  of 

Providence, 35G 

Successive  Periods  of  Deposit 330 

Successive  Periods  of  Organized  Existences,           ....  366 

State  of  the  Antediluvian  World,              370 

Indications  of  the  Action  of  the  Deluge  at  the  Period  assigned  tc  it 

in  Scripture,             374 

Cuvier's  calculation  respecting  the  Deluge, 378 

Effects  of  the  Deluge  on  the  Present  Surface  of  the  Earth,    .         .  383 
xiy.  Svud/lY— The  Deluge  a  Divine  Judgment,             .         .         .389 


SACRED  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


WINTER 


FIRST  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

GOODNESS   OF    GOD   TO    HIS    RATIONAL    CREATURES. 

We  are  about  to  commence  a  course  of  study  which  will 
lay  before  us,  in  detail,  abundant  proofs  of  beneficent  design, 
exhibited  in  the  various  departments  of  creation ;  and  we 
surely  cannot  better  employ  this  first  day  of  the  first  week  of 
our  delightful  and  edifying  task,  than  in  considering  some  of 
the  more  obvious  and  general  evidences  of  the  paternal  re- 
gard which  the  Creator  bestows  on  our  race — the  chief  of  his 
sublunary  works. 

But  the  difficulty  lies  in  knowing  where  to  begin,  and 
what  to  select ;  for  we  cannot  turn  in  any  direction  where 
His  love  does  not  smile  around  us.  In  Him  we  live,  and 
move,  and  have  our  being ;  and  all  that  we  possess  flows  en- 
tirely from  the  exhaustless  source  of  His  bounty.  From  the 
first  moment  of  our  existence.  His  guardian  arm  surrounded 
us,  and  at  this  instant  we  are  the  objects  of  his  providential 
care.  He  listened  to  our  helpless  cries,  and  supplied  all  our 
infant  wants,  before  our  hearts  had  learned  to  acknowledge 
their  benefactor,  or  our  tongues  to  pronounce  His  name.  It 
was  He  who  opened  the  bosoms  of  our  parents  to  impressions 
of  tenderness,  and  taught  them  to  experience  a  nameless  de- 
light in  those  little  attentions  which  our  tender  years  required. 
To  secure  the  good  offices  of  the  generous.  He  clothed  our 
countenances  in  the  smiles  of  innocence ;  and,  to  soften  the 

VOL.  rv.  2 


14  GOODNESS    OF    GOD    TO 

hearts  of  the  cruel.  He  caused  our  eyes  to  overflow  with 
tears.  He  strengthened  our  bodies  and  enlarged  our  minds. 
Through  all  the  slippery  paths  of  youth,  His  hand  unseen 
conducted  us,  guarding  us  from  temptation,  delivering  us 
from  danger,  and  crowning  our  days  with  His  goodness.  And 
whatever  period  of  hfe  we  have  now  reached,  we  owe  our 
continued  lives  to  His  preserving  care,  and  our  blessings,  both 
past  and  present,  to  His  paternal  bounty. 

Let  us  look  at  particulars.  If  we  turn  to  our  connexion 
with  surrounding  nature,  it  is  God's  air  which  we  breathe, 
and  God's  sun  that  enlightens  us.  The  grateful  vicissitudes 
of  day  and  night,  the  revolutions  of  the  seasons,  marked  by 
the  regular  return  of  summer  and  winter,  seed-time  and  har- 
vest, are  all  appointed  by  His  unerring  wisdom.  It  is  His 
pencil  which  paints  the  flower,  and  His  fragrance  which  it 
exhales.  By  His  hand  the  fields  are  clothed  in  beauty,  and 
caused  to  teem  with  plenty.  At  His  command  the  mountains 
rose,  the  valleys  sank,  and  the  plains  were  stretched  out.  His 
seas  surround  our  coasts,  and  His  winds  blow,  to  waft  to  us 
the  treasures  of  distant  lands,  and  to  extend  the  intercourse  of 
man  with  man. 

But  we  are  made  capable  of  more  exalted  enjoyments  than 
can  be  derived  from  external  nature ;  and  He,  who  formed  us 
with  these  capacities,  has  not  left  us  without  the  means  of 
exercising  them.  Originally  created  in  the  image  of  God, 
tlio  human  soul,  though  apostate,  fallen,  and  degraded,  still 
ri^tains  the  embers,  as  it  were,  of  the  fire  which  came  down 
from  heaven  to  animate  it ;  and,  as  if  conscious  of  its  celestial 
oriLriiij  finds  permanent  enjoyment  only  in  the  culttvn-ion  of 
those  faculties  which  prove  its  resemblance  to  its  Creator. 
Nor  has  the  Father  of  mercies  left  us  without  the  means  of 
such  enjoyment.  In  society,  the  pleasures  of  beneficence  and 
the  movements  of  compassion  ;  in  friendship,  the  interchange 
of  jTood  offices,  and  the  balm  of  sympathy ;  in  domestic  life, 
the  tenderness  of  conjugal  affection,  and  the  endearments  of 
filial  and  parental  duty  ;  and,  to  crown  all,  in  religion,  the 
sublime   enjoyments  of  devotion,  and  the  blessed   hopes  of 


HIS    RATIONAL   CREATURES. 


15 


immortality,  give  an  unspeakable  charm  to  existence,  and 
prove  the  Divine  Being  who  bestowed  these  gifts,  to  be  full 
of  condescending  kindness  to  his  rational  offspring. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  we  derive  a  taint  from  our  first 
parents  which  blights  all  these  blessings  ;  and  that,  so  long  as 
we  remain  in  our  natural  state  of  alienation  and  rebellion,  an 
unexpiated  curse  rests  upon  our  heads.  But  here  it  is 
especially,  that  the  bounty  of  the  Eternal  is  displayed.  Man, 
indeed,  was  expelled  from  paradise ;  and  the  fair  world,  of 
which  he  had  proved  himself  unworthy,  was  rendered  suit- 
able  to  his  fallen  condition.  But  it  w^as  not  the  will  of  God 
that  the  human  race  should  be  abandoned  to  perish  in  their 
misery  ;  and,  while  His  justice  executed  the  merited  sentence, 
His  mercy  gave  assurance  of  future  deliverance,  and 

'  Hope,  the  charmer,  lingered  still  behind.' 

Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  beneficent  or  more  won- 
derful than  the  scheme  of  Divine  grace  revealed  to  us  in  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  by  which  apparent  contradictions  are  recon- 
ciled ;  by  which  a  holy  God  is  rendered  propitious  to  the 
unholy,  and  a  just  God  becomes  '  the  justifier  of  the  ungod- 
ly ;'  by  which  sin  is  punished,  and  yet  the  sinner  is  not  only 
suffered  to  escape,  but  is  advanced  to  a  higher  grade  in  the 
scale  of  existence,  and  crowned  with  eternal  blessings  !  That, 
for  the  accomplishment  of  this  most  astonishing  scheme  of 
mercy,  God  should  send  his  own  Son  into  the  world,  'in 
the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh  ;'  that  this  uncreated  Being,  be- 
coming a  creature,  should  tabernacle  on  earth,  and  pass 
through  the  various  stages  of  human  life,  a  man  of  sorrows, 
and  acquainted  with  grief;  that  he  should  come  to  his  own, 
and  his  own  should  reject  and  despise  him  ;  nay,  more, — that 
sinful  men  should  be  permitted  to  lay  their  impious  hands  on 
the  '  Lord  of  Life,'  and  put  him  to  a  cruel  and  ignominious 
death;  and  that  all  these  mysterious  transactions  should  be 
the  means  of  removing  the  impassable  gulph  which  our  sins 
had  placed  between  heaven  and  earth,  and  of  opening  a  new 
way  to  the  regions  of  immortal  felicity,  marked  by  the  tract 


16  CHARACTER  IMPRESSED  ON  NATURE. 

of  his  bleeding-  feet, — these  are  events,  the  high  import  and 
matchless  grace  of  which,  angels  desire  to  look  into,  and  the 
human  intellect  is  too  feeble  adequately  to  conceive.  When 
the  believer  thinks  of  them,  his  heart  overflows  with  grati- 
tude;  and  the  deep  emotion  which  they  excite  finds  no  lan- 
guage more  suitable  for  its  expression,  than  the  short,  but 
emphatic  exclamation  of  an  apostle, — '  Thanks  be  to  God  for 
his  unspeakable  gift ! ' 


FIRST   WEEK— MONDAY. 

THE    CHARACTER    IMPRESSED    ON    NATURE. COMPENSATION. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  examination  of  particulars,  Avith 
the  view  of  exhibiting  the  attributes  of  the  great  Creator,  as 
manifested  in  the  seasons  of  the  year,  it  is  of  importance  to 
discover  the  nature  of  the  principles  which  are  to  form  the 
subject  of  our  investigation;  more  especially,  as  there  is  cer- 
tainly something  very  remarkable  in  the  character  impressed 
on  the  created  objects  within  the  sphere  of  our  observation. 
Were  we  to  commence  the  inquiry  without  the  aid  of  ex- 
perience, founding  our  expectations  on  the  abstract  theories 
of  perfection  which  we  might  form  in  the  closet,  we  should 
assuredly  meet  with  difficulties  and  disappointments  at  every 
step  of  our  progress.  We  shall  in  vain  seek  for  proofs  of 
absolute  perfection,  either  in  the  physical  or  moral  condition 
of  this  lower  world.  It  is  a  scene  of  perpetual  change  ;  of 
beauty,  ending  in  deformity  ;  of  pleasure,  succeeded  by  pain  ; 
of  success,  giving  way  to  disappointment ;  of  life,  vigour,  and 
brightness,  alternating  with  gloom,  decay,  and  death  ;  and, 
if  the  actions  of  rational  agents  be  regarded,  it  is  a  union  of 
wisdom  and  folly,  nobility  and  meanness,  virtue  and  vice. 
Instead  of  perfection,  we  have  here  the  very  reverse.  Where, 
then,  are  we  to  seek  for  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  an  All- 
powerful  and  Intelligent  First  Cause  ?  Our  answer  is, — In 
the  general  character  and  tendencies  of  the  system ;  in  the 


COMPENSATION.  17 

arrangements  by  which  evils  are  averted  or  mitigated,  and 
excellence  is  drawn  from  the  very  bosom  of  apparent  defect 
and  worthlessness.  We  are  not  to  expect  absolute,  but  only 
relative  good ;  not  the  absence  of  evil,  but  compensations  for 
It ;  not  perfection,  but  a  bias  towards  it.  In  regarding  the 
whole  system,  we  seem  to  behold  a  piece  of  vast  and  amazing 
mechanism,  of  which  the  materials  are  defective  or  positively 
unsound,  but  the  workmanship  perfect.  The  wisdom  lies  in 
the  admirable  execution  of  a  work  apparently  full  of  diffi- 
culties and  obstructions ;  and  the  goodness,  in  the  conversion 
of  what  would  seem  to  be  naturally  evils,  into  agents  of  vir- 
tue and  instruments  of  enjoyment. 

This,  however,  is  certamly  not  the  real,  but  only  the 
apparent  state  of  things.  That  the  power  of  the  Eternal,  as 
well  as  his  intellectual  and  moral  perfections,  is  infinite,  it  is 
on  other  grounds  impossible  to  doubt ;  that  we  cannot  per- 
ceive these  perfections,  in  all  their  extent,  manifested  in  his 
works,  must  therefore  proceed  from  a  deficiency  in  the  grasp 
of  our  minds ;  but  we  must  treat  of  them  according  to  our 
own  perceptions ;  and  the  evidence  of  Divine  wisdom  and 
goodness  which,  under  the  modification  we  have  endeavoured 
to  explain,  breaks  in  upon  us  from  every  side,  is  probably,  in 
some  respects,  better  suited  to  call  forth  the  wonder,  admira- 
tion, and  gratitude  of  such  limited  creatures  as  we  are,  than 
even  if  we  were  to  see  the  hand  of  the  Creator  less  darkly. 
The  view  might  be  too  vast,  and  the  glory  too  effulgent  for 
our  mortal  vision. 

An  apt  illustration  of  the  kind  of  defect  and  compensation, 
which  seem  to  be  inherent  in  the  system  of  our  world,  may 
be  found  by  attending  to  the  state  of  external  nature  in  the 
present  season  of  the  year.  That  there  are  disadvantages 
and  privations  in  winter,  under  which  all  animated  nature 
seems  to  shrink  and  groan,  is  undeniable;  yet  how  many 
abatements,  and  how  much  positive  enjoyment  have  we  to 
place  in  the  opposite  scale ! 

It  will  be  my  duty  to  examine  these  abatements  of  evil, 
and  these  actual  blessings,  separately,  in  the  course  of  our 

2* 


18  CHARACTER   IMPRESSED    ON   NATURE. 

inquiry  ;  but  let  us  take  one  example  by  Avay  of  illustration. 
In  our  climate,  and  in  all  the  regions  which  verge  toward  the 
poles,  within  certain  limits,  one  of  the  discomforts  of  winter, 
which  must  occur  to  every  person  who  thinks  on  the  subject, 
is  the  shortness  and  gloom  of  the  day.  The  sun  rises  late, 
looks  down  for  a  few  hours  with  diminished  glory  on  a 
blasted  world,  and  then  goes  rapidly  away,  leaving  all  nature 
to  the  darkness  of  a  tedious  night.  This  is  dreadful ;  yet  see 
how  it  is  rendered  a  source  of  pleasure  and  improvement ! 
If,  during  the  absence  of  the  sun,  we  look  at  the  starry 
heavens,  what  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  wonders  does  astrono- 
my unfold,  at  once  to  exalt  and  to  humble  the  human  mind, 
— to  fill  us  with  admiration  of  the  Divine  perfections,  and  to 
teach  us  the  salutary  lesson  of  our  own  insignificance.  It 
does  not  require  that  we  should  dive  into  the  mysteries  of  this 
science,  by  means  of  the  telescope,  before  these  sentiments 
arise.  They  belong  to  every  age  of  the  world,  to  every 
stage  of  advancement  in  science,  and  to  every  station  in  life. 
There  is  no  expression  of  devotional  feeling  to  which  even 
'  babes  and  sucklings,'  as  it  is  emphatically  said,  more  readily 
respond,  than  that  of  the  psalmist,  '  When  I  consider  thy 
heavens,  the  work  of  thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars 
which  thou  hast  ordained,  what  is  man,  O  Lord,  that  thou  art 
mindful  of  him  ?  and  the  son  of  man  that  thou  visitest  him  V 
How  blank  and  dismal  would  be  the  darkness  of  a  long  win- 
ter night,  were  it  not  cheered  and  rendered  sublime  by  the 
splendour  of  the  starry  firmament ! 

Look,  again,  at  the  comforts  and  domestic  endearments  of  a 
winter  evening  fireside.  Who,  that  has  experienced  these, 
will  allege  that  winter  is  inferior  to  summer,  either  in  its  en- 
joyments or  in  its  means  of  improvement?  When  early 
night  has  spread  its  shade  over  external  nature,  and  labour 
has  ceased  in  the  fields,  and  the  sound  of  busy  feet  is  more 
rarely  heard  along  the  streets  ;  when  the  shutters  are  closed, 
ajid  the  curtains  drawn,  and  the  fire  blazes  in  the  grate,  and 
the  2andle  stands  on  the  table,  shedding  artificial  day,  and  an 
united  family,  shutting  out  the  world,  retire  within  their  own 


COMPENSATION.  19 

beloved  circle,  to  enjoy  the  social  hours ;  when  ihe  father  and 
mother  occupy  their  wonted  chimney-corners,  and  the  chil- 
dren, while  their  hands,  perchance,  are  engaged  in  some  light 
employment,  listen  with  interest  to  the  instruction  of  some 
well-chosen  book,  or  bear  their  parts  in  edifying  and  endear- 
ino-  conversation, — who  will  not  confess  that  there  are  advan- 
tages  in  this  intercourse,  which  longer  days,  and  a  more 
genial  atmosphere,  with  all  the  attractions  of  vocal  woods, 
and  flowery  meads,  can  scarcely  equal  ? 

Here,  then,  we  have  compensation  for  an  acknowledged 
evil ; — we  have  even  more.  This  evil  is  converted  into 
means  of  pleasure  and  improvement ;  and  such  is  precisely 
the  character  of  Creative  Wisdom  and  Goodness,  into  which 
we  have  to  inquire.  He  who  expects  to  find  a  higher  grade 
of  perfection  in  those  manifestations  of  nature  with  which  he 
is  surrounded,  will  assuredly  be  disappointed. 

Yet  this  is  a  state  of  things  far  from  being  satisfactory  to 
the  inquiring  mind ;  and  the  question  still  recurs, — Whence 
is  this  seeming  contrariety  and  defect  1  Why  does  evil  exist 
at  all,  under  the  government  of  an  All-wise  and  All-powerful 
Providence  ?  Again,  and  above  all, — Whence  is  moral  evil  ? 
How  comes  it  that  ingratitude  to  a  benefactor  of  infinite  per- 
fection, and  rebellion  against  the  eternal  laws  of  the  great 
Moral  Governor,  should  exist  for  a  single  instant,  and  should 
be  permitted  to  brave,  as  it  were,  the  Majesty  of  the  Eternal  1 

These  are  questions  too  deep  for  human  reason;  at  the 
bare  statement  of  which,  indeed,  human  nature  stands  aghast 
and  confounded.  Revelation,  however,  takes  up  the  im- 
portant subject,  and  utters  its  response.  The  world  came 
from  its  Creator  an  image  of  his  own  perfections  ; — but  it  has 
been  smitten  with  a  curse.  The  chief  of  the  Creator's  sub- 
lunary works, — he  for  whose  abode  the  earth  was  prepared, 
and  clothed  in  beauty,  who  was  made  but  a  little  lower  than 
the  angels,  and  bore  on  his  breast  the  impress  of  his  Maker, — 
that  lord  of  this  nether  sphere,  received  the  precious  gift  of 
liberty,  but  abusing  it,  converted  it  into  the  means  of  his  own 
miserable  degradation.     His  destiny  was  altered,  and  the 


20  CHARACTER   IMPRESSED    ON    NATURE. 

world  in  which  he  was  for  a  season  to  dwell  was  altered  also. 
To  fallen  man,  the  earth  was  no  longer  to  be  a  place  of  rest, 
but  of  pilgrimage  ;  from  a  paradise  of  enjoyment,  it  has  been 
converted  into  a  school  of  discipline.  That  heavenly  blessing 
which  had  filled  the  earth,  the  sea,  and  the  air,  with  beauty 
and  happiness,  was  withdrawn.  Darkness  and  tempest, 
change  and  decay,  were  thenceforth  to  brood  over  inanimate 
nature ;  want,  suffering,  and  death,  were  to  invade  the  living 
creation ;  and  the  guilty  author  of  this  universal  blight  was 
himself  to  be  blighted  more  than  all ! 

But  why  ?  Not  that  this  intelligent  creature  should  exist  a 
few  unhappy  years  in  a  stricken  world,  and  then  perish  for 
ever ;  but  that,  under  the  chastisement  of  a  father's  rod,  he 
might  learn  wisdom ;  and,  becoming  the  object  of  Divine 
mercy,  might,  by  means  of  labours  not  his  own,  aspire  to 
honours  greater  than  those  he  had  forfeited,  and  be  made  an 
heir  of  immortality  in  a  higher  and  brighter  world. 


FIRST   WEEK— TUESDAY. 

THE    CHARACTER   IMPRESSED    ON    NATURE. CONTRIVANCE. 

From  the  example  stated  yesterday,  some  idea  may  be 
formed  of  the  kind  of  compensation  for  permitted  evils  which 
is  every  where  to  be  discovered  in  the  works  of  creation ;  but 
another,  and  equally  marked  feature  in  the  face  of  nature,  is 
that  of  the  most  ingenious  contrivances,  to  avoid  evils  which 
would  otherwise  occur,  or  to  insure  advantages  which  could 
not  otherwise  be  obtained.  An  example  or  two  of  this  un. 
equivocal  proof  of  a  wise  and  beneficent  Designer  will  illus- 
trate this  subject. 

For  these  I  shall  take  advantage  of  the  ingenious  Trea- 
tise of  Sir  Charles  Bell  on  the  Human  Hand,  which  is, 
throughout,  a  most  masterly  exposition  of  the  argument, 
arising  from  this  very  view.  The  first  which  I  select  is  taken 
from  his  chapter  on  the  '  Sensi>  ility  of  the  Surface,  compared 


CONTRIVANCE.  21 

with  the  deeper  parts.'  That  the  skin  is  extremely  sensible 
to  pain,  no  one  need  be  informed ;  but  few,  perhaps,  have 
sufficiently  attended  to  the  fact,  which  is  yet  within  the  reach 
of  any  person's  observation,  that  the  pain  does  not  increase  in 
proportion  to  the  depth  of  the  wound,  the  sensibility  being 
almost  exclusively  confined  to  the  outward  covering  of  the 
body.  This  has  been  very  convincingly  proved  to  be  a  con- 
trivance of  much  wisdom  and  benevolence.  After  stating  the 
fact,  and  showing  it  to  be  a  matter  of  daily  surgical  expe- 
rience, the  author  justly  observes,  that  the  obvious  intention 
is,  that  the  skin  should  be  a  safeguard  to  the  delicate  textures 
which  are  contained  within,  by  forcing  us  to  avoid  injuries  ; 
and  that  it  does  afford  us  a  more  effectual  defence  than  if  our 
bodies  were  covered  with  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros. 

'  In  pursuing  the  inquiry,'  says  he,  '  we  learn  with  much 
interest,  that  when  the  bones,  joints,  and  all  the  membranes 
and  ligaments  which  cover  them  are  exposed,  they  may  be 
cut,  pricked,  or  even  burned,  without  the  patient  or  the  ani- 
mal suffering  the  slightest  pain.  These  facts  must  appear  to 
be  conclusive ;  for  who,  witnessing  these  instances  of  insen- 
sibility, would  not  conclude  that  the  parts  were  devoid  of 
sensation  ?  But  when  we  take  the  true  philosophical,  and,  I 
may  say,  religious  view  of  the  subject,  and  consider  that  pain 
is  not  an  eviJ,  but  given  for  benevolent  purposes,  and  for  some 
important  object,  we  should  be  unwilling  to  terminate  the  in- 
vestigation here. 

'  In  the  first  place,  we  must  perceive,  that,  if  a  sensibility 
similar  to  that  of  the  skin  had  been  given  to  these  internal 
parts,  it  must*have  remained  unexercised.  Had  they  been 
made  sensible  to  pricking  and  burning,  they  would  have  pos- 
sessed a  quality  which  would  never  have  been  useful,  since 
no  such  injuries  can  reach  them,  or  never  without  warning 
being  received  through  the  sensibility  of  the  skin. 

'  But,  further,  if  we  find  that  sensibility  to  pain  is  a  be- 
nevolent provision,  and  is  bestowed  for  the  purpose  of  warn- 
ing us  to  avoid  such  violence  as  would  affect  the  functions  or 
uses  of  the  parts,  we  may  yet  inquire,  whether  any  injury 


22  CHARACTKiC    IMl'lLi:5:&ED    ON    NATURE. 

can  reach  these  internal  parts,  without  the  sensibility  of  the 
skin  being  excited.  Now,  of  this  there  can  be  no  doubt,  for 
they  are  subject  to  sprain,  and  rupture,  and  shocks,  without 
the  skin  being  implicated  in  the  accident.  If  we  have  been 
correct  in  our  inference,  there  sliould  be  a  provision  to  guide 
as  in  the  safe  exercise  of  the  limbs ;  and,  notwithstanding 
what  has  been  apparently  demonstrated  of  the  insensibility 
of  these  internal  parts,  they  must  possess  an  appropriate  sen- 
sibility, or  it  would  imply  an  imperfection.  With  these 
reflections  we  recur  to  experiment,  and  we  find  that  the  parts 
which  are  insensible  to  pricking,  cutting,  and  burning,  are 
actually  sensible  to  concussion,  to  stretching,  or  laceration. 

'  How  consistent,  then,  and  beautiful,  is  the  distribution  of 
this  quality  of  life !  The  sensibility  of  pain  varies  with  the 
function  of  the  part.  The  skin  is  endowed  with  sensibility 
to  every  possible  injurious  impression  which  may  be  made 
upon  it ;  but  had  this  kind  and  degree  of  sensibility  been 
made  universal,  we  should  have  been  racked  with  pain  in  the 
common  motions  of  the  body ;  the  mere  weight  of  one  part 
on  another,  or  the  motion  of  the  joint,  would  have  been 
attended  with  that  degree  of  suffering  which  we  experience 
in  using  or  walking  upon  an  inflamed  limb. 

'  But  on  the  other  hand,  had  the  deeper  parts  possessed  no 
sensibility,  we  should  have  had  no  guide  in  our  exertions. 
They  have  a  sensibility  limited  to  the  kind  of  injury  which 
it  is  possible  may  reach  them,  and  which  teaches  us  what  we 
can  do  with  impunity.  If  we  leap  from  too  great  a  height, 
or  carry  too  great  a  burden,  or  attempt  to  interrupt  a  body 
whose  impetus  is  too  great  for  us,  we  are  %arned  of  the 
danger  as  effectually  by  this  internal  sensibility,  as  we  are  of 
the  approach  of  a  sharp  point,  or  a  hot  iron  to  the  skin.'* 

To  this  striking  pathological  argument  for  benevolent  con- 
trivance, might  be  added  proofs  without  end,  from  the  princi- 
ples of  mechanics.  The  whole  animal  frame,  indeed,  is  a 
piece  of  the  most  exquisite  mechanism,  and  the  studies  of  the 
anatomist  abound  with  demonstrations  of  the  most  satisfactory 
*  Bell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  pp.  155 — 157. 


CONTRIVANCE.  23 

kind.  Not  only  do  we  find  every  joint,  bone,  and  sinew,  of 
every  species  of  animal,  so  adapted  to  all  the  rest,  and  to  the 
nature  of  its  food  and  habits,  as  to  constitute  a  perfect  system 
considered  in  itself,  but  when  one  species  of  living  creatures 
is  compared  with  others,  ncAV  kinds  of  relations  and  adapta- 
tions are  discovered,  which  greatly  extend  our  views  of 
creative  contrivance,  and  increase  our  admiration.  Sir  Charles 
Bell,  in  the  work  from  which  we  have  quoted,  has  followed 
out  this  inquiry,  as  respects  the  human  hand,  in  a  very  in- 
teresting manner  ;  and  we  cannot  better  close  this  paper,  than 
by  extracting  a  few  sentences  from  a  passage  where  he  states 
the  principle  on  which  he  so  successfully  expatiates. 

'  Were  I  to  indulge  in  the  admiration  naturally  arising  out 
of  this  subject,  and  point  out  the  strength  and  freedom  of 
motion  in  the  upper  extremity  at  the  ball  and  socket  joint  of 
the  shoulder, — the  firmness  of  the  articulation  of  the  elbow, 
and  yet  how  admirably  it  is  suited  to  the  co-operation  of  the 
hands,  the  fineness  of  the  motion  of  the  hand  itself,  divided 
among  the  joints  of  twenty-nine  bones,  it  might  be  objected 
to  with  some  show  of  reason,  and  it  might  be  said, — The 
bones  and  the  forms  of  the  joints  which  you  are  admiring, 
are  so  far  from  being  peculiarly  suited  to  the  hand  of  man, 
that  they  may  be  found  in  any  vertebrated  animal.  But  this 
would  not  abate  our  admiration  ;  it  Avould  induce  us  to  take 
a  more  comprehensive  view  of  nature,  and  remind  us  that 
our  error  was  in  looking  at  a  part  only,  instead  of  embracing 
the  whole  system ;  where,  by  slight  changes,  and  gradations 
hardly  perceptible,  the  same  bones  are  adjusted  to  every  con- 
dition of  animal  existence. 

'  We  recognise  the  bones  which  form  the  upper  extremity 
of  man,  in  the  fin  of  a  whale,  in  the  paddle  of  the  turtle,  in 
the  wing  of  the  bird.  We  see  the  same  bones,  perfectly 
suited  to  their  purpose,  in  the  paw  of  the  lion  or  the  bear,  and 
equally  fitted  for  motion  in  the  hoof  of  the  horse,  or  in  the  foot 
of  the  camel,  or  adjusted  for  climbing  or  digging,  in  the 
long-clawed  feet  of  the  sloth  or  beaver.     *     *     *     * 

'  The  wonder  still  is,  that,  whether  we  examine  this  sys- 


24  GLOBULAR    FIGURE    OF   THE    EARTH. 

tern  in  man,  or  in  any  of  the  inferior  species  of  animals, 
nothing  can  be  more  curiously  adjusted  or  appropriated ;  and 
we  should  be  inclined  to  say,  whatever  instance  occupied  our 
thoughts  for  the  time,  that  to  this  particular  object  the  system 
had  been  framed.'* 


FIRST   WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

GLOBULAR    FIGURE    OF    THE    EARTH. 

The  character  Avhich,  in  the  two  preceding  papers,  we 
stated  as  belonging  to  the  works  of  God,  consisting  as  it 
does,  not  in  absolute  perfection,  but  rather  in  contrivances  and 
compensations  to  abate  imperfection,  runs  through  every  thing 
in  nature,  and  may  be  equally  traced  in  the  moral  and  physi- 
cal worlds.  It  may  be  useful  and  interesting  to  examine  this 
character  in  some  of  the  great  arrangements  of  external 
nature. 

That  the  universe  should  be  governed  by  general  laws 
impressed  on  matter,  is  a  providential  arrangement,  the  con- 
summate wisdom  of  which  it  requires  no  effort  of  reasoning 
to  demonstrate  ;  and  that  these  laws  should  be  fixed  and  un- 
deviating,  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  their  existence ;  for, 
were  they  to  any  great  extent  to  yield  to  circumstances,  they 
would  cease  to  possess  the  character  of  principles,  on  the 
results  of  which  it  Avould  be  possible  either  to  reason  or  to 
act, — that  IS,  they  would  cease  to  be  general  laws.  Now,  one 
of  these  general  laws,  as  simple  in  its  nature,  as  it  is  uni- 
versal in  its  operations,  and  amazing  in  its  effects,  is  the  prin- 
ciple of  gravitation,  of  which  it  has  been  beautifully  said, — 

'  The  very  law  which  moulds  a  tear, 
And  makes  it  trickle  from  its  source, 
That  law  preserves  the  earth  a  sphere, 
And  guides  the  planets  in  their  course.'t 

The  globular  figure  of  the  earth,  which  is  the  result  of  this 
♦  Bell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  pp.  20-22.  t  Rogers. 


GLOBULAR   FIGURE    OF    THE   EARTH.  25 

law,  and  which  may  easily  be  shown  to  possess  many  im- 
portant advantages,  presents  this  formidable  difficulty, — that 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  issuing  in  parallel  lines  from  that  lumi- 
nary, must  fall  directly  upon  that  part  of  the  terrestrial  ball 
which  is  immediately  opposed  to  them,  and  obliquely,  and 
therefore  less  powerfully,  upon  all  other  parts  of  its  convex 
surface,  till,  at  the  extremes  of  the  hemisphere,  they  would 
entirely  cease  to  reach  the  earth.  Were  the  earth  to  remain 
at  rest,  therefore,  the  consequence  of  its  globular  form  would 
be,  that  the  sun  would  shine  intensely  and  constantly  (fh  a 
single  spot,  while  one-half  of  its  surface  would  be  left  in  total 
darkness,  and  the  other  would  be  illuminated  with  greater  or 
less  force,  according  to  its  distance  from  the  sun's  direct  rays. 
The  disadvantages  of  such  an  arrangement  need  no  comment. 
•Now,  one  way  in  which  this  evil  is  abated,  is  by  what  is 
called  the  diurnal  rotation  of  the  earth.  Our  globe  is  made  to 
whirl  round  as  on  two  pivots,  which  are  called  the  poles*  of 
the  earth,  once  in  twenty-four  hours.  This,  while  it  causes 
the  grateful  alternation  of  day  and  night,  conveys  light  and  heat 
round  the  world,  so  as  to  diffuse  them  with  nearly  equal  force 
on  every  spot  within  the  same  parallel  of  latitude.  Were  the 
earth  in  the  form  of  a  cylinder  or  roller,  this  rotatory  motion 
would  cause  the  sun,  in  the  cours^  of  the  annual  revolution, 
to  shine  equally  on  every  part  of  its  rovrnd  surface,  while  his 
rays  would  never  reach  the  wide  flat  regions  at  either  end ; 
the  days  and  nights  would  then  be  invariably  of  the  same 
length  ;  there  would  be  no  change  of  climate,  and  all  the 
habitable  parts  of  the  earth  would  be  one  burriing  tropical 
region,  without  abatement  and  without  variety.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  earth,  in  its  present  form  of  a  ball,  were  to 
have  no  yearly  as  well  as  daily  motion,  or,  having  an  yearly 
motion,  were  to  move  round  its  own  a^fis  in  what  may  be 
considered  the  most  simple  manner,  that  is,  in  an  erect  posi- 
tion with  reference  to  the  sun,  the  effect  would  be,  that  he 

*  The  extended  line  through  the  centre  of  the  globe,  on  which  it  turns, 
is  called  the  axis  of  the  eartli,— taking  the  metaphor  from  the  axis  of  car- 
riage wheels. 

3 


»D  GLOBULAR    FIGURE    OF   THE   EARTH. 

would  constantly  shine  with  his  direct  rays  only  on  that  sin- 
gle line  of  the  earth's  surface  which  is  called  the  equator. 
There  would  still  be  no  change  of  seasons,  and  the  accumu- 
lated heat  in  the  equatorial  regions  would  be  so  excessive,  as 
to  destroy,  in  all  probability,  both  animal  and  vegetable  life  ; 
while,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  tlie  polar  circle,  and  even  in 
a  vast  extent  of  those  countries  to  which  we  now  give  the 
name  of  temperate,  the  globe  would  be  uninhabitable,  from 
the  contrary  cause  of  extreme  and  uniform  cold. 

Tne  contrivance  by  which  this  inconvenience  is,  to  a  de- 
sirable extent,  removed,  is  well  known.  The  earth,  which, 
in  common  with  the  other  planets,  performs  an  annual  revolu- 
tion round  the  sun,  is  made  to  take  this  course,  not  in  an 
erect,  but  in  an  inclined  position  ;  by  which  means  the  pole, 
which  leant  toward  the  sun  in  one  part  of  the  course,  leans 
away  from  it  in  another.  The  consequence  of  this  is,  that 
the  sun,  instead  of  shining  constantly  with  his  direct  rays 
upon  the  equator,  appears  to  be  continually  traversing  a  con- 
siderable space  in  the  heavens,  shifting  from  tropic  to  tropic, 
and  presenting  himself  for  one  half  of  the  year  to  the  north, 
and  for  the  other  half  to  the  south  of  the  equator.  The 
various  parts  of  the  earth's  surface,  within  the  tropics,  are 
thus  exposed  alternately  to  the  direct  and  indirect  rays  of  the 
sun  at  different  periods,  and  the  position  and  influence  of 
this  source  of  light  and  heat  is  also  varied  over  the  whole 
globe,  or,  in  common  language,  the  diversified  appearances 
of  the  seasons  are  produced. 

This  is  a  most  beneficial  arrangement;  but  it  is  evident 
that  it  could  only  be  salutary  within  a  certain  range,  for  this 
simple  reason,  that,  were  the  sun  to  traverse  from  pole  to 
pole,  it  would  necessarily  happen,  that  while  he  was  shining 
vertically  on  the  south  pole,  the  north  would  be  left  to  total 
darkness,  and  the  tenfold  rigours  of  a  polar  winter ;  and, 
vice  versa,  while  he  was  pouring  the  unmitigated  radiance  of 
his  burning  rays  on  the  regions  of  the  north,  the  south  would 
be  doomed  to  undergo  the  extreme,  which  a  few  months 
before,  had  carried  desolation  to  the  north.     The  fatal  conse- 


CIRCULATION   IN   THE   ATMOSPHERE    AND    OCEAN.  27 

quences  of  this  need  not  be  described ;  the  whole  balance  of 
nature,  at  present  so  nicely  adjusted,  would  be  upset,  the  ele- 
ments would  be  in  constant  and  furious  commotion,  and  no 
organized  existence,  such,  at  least,  as  is  at  present  to  be  found 
on  the  earth,  could  survive  the  conflict ;  or,  if  it  did  could 
endure  the  violent  changes  of  the  seasons,  for  a  single  year. 

It  would  be  by  no  means  difficult  to  prove,  .that  the  extent 
to  which  the  range  of  the  sun  is  actually  confined,  is  pre- 
cisely that  which  manifests  the  most  consummate  intelligence 
in  the  great  Artificer.  Had  it  been  either  more  or  less  than 
we  actually  find  it,  the  same  advantages  would  not  have  been 
secured,  other  things  remaining  as  they  are,  nor  would  in- 
conveniences have  been  so  effectually  avoided.  Evils,  in- 
deed, still  remain ;  it  is  part  of  the  system  of  a  world  of 
discipline  that  it  should  be  so, — but  the  proof  of  Divine  con- 
trivance lies  in  this,  that  these  evils  are  at  the  minimum^ 
while  the  advantages,  on  the  contrary,  are  at  the  maximum; 
that  is  to  say,  that  any  alteration  either  way  would  be  for  the 
worse.  Here,  then,  we  have,  what  we  are  taught  to  look  for 
by  the  general  analogy  of  nature, — a  proof  of  supreme  wis- 
dom in  the  adjustment  of  materials, — the  adaptation  of  means 
with  admirable  skill  to  a  beneficent  end. 


FIRST  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

CIRCULATION   IN    THE    ATMOSPHERE    AND    OCEAN. 

We  have  mentioned  the  inclination  of  the  earth's  axis  to 
the  plane  of  its  annual  orbit,  as  the  cause  of  the  variety  of 
seasons  on  its  surface  \  but  there  are  other  beneficial  arrange- 
ments which  concur  witk,  and  are  influenced  by  this,  and 
without  which  it  would  but  imperfectly  secure  what  is  ob- 
viously the  main  design  of  the  Creator,  namely,  the  furnish- 
ing of  an  extensive  and  varied  surface,  fit  for  the  habitation 
of  living  creatures,  and  especially  of  man,  the  only  creature 
endowed  with  the  higher  attributes  of  reason,  and  therefore  a 


28  CIRCULATION    IN    THE 

subject  of  moral  discipline.  Among  these  arrangements  we 
shall,  in  the  present  paper,  only  allude  to  the  circulation 
established  in  the  fluid  elements  which  surround  our  globe. 

The  expansion  of  fluid  substances  by  heat,  and  their  con- 
traction, within  certain  bounds,  by  cold,  is  a  universal  law  of 
nature.  Now,  this  law  has  an  obvious  tendency  to  create  cir- 
culation. The  fluid  becoming  lighter  by  being  expanded, 
and  heavier  when  contracted,  rises  towards  the  surface,  or  falls 
towards  the  bottom,  in  proportion  to  the  partial  application  of 
heat  or  cold,  and  thus  tends  to  diffuse  an  equable  temperature 
through  the  whole  mass.  But  this  principle  has  also  another 
effect,  which  we  have  more  immediately  in  view.  When  the 
fluid  expands,  it  occupies  a  greater  space,  and  must  therefore 
displace  some  of  the  mass  with  which  it  is  surrounded  ;  when 
it  is  contracted,  the  contrary  effect  follows, — its  diminished 
bulk  is  supplied  by  the  rushing  in  of  the  contiguous  fluid. 
In  either  case  a  current  is  created. 

In  regarding  the  effects  thus  produced  on  the  atmosphere, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  not  to  recognize  the  impress  of  Avisdom 
and  goodness.  It  is  to  this  cause,  operating  on  the  combined 
air  and  vapour,  that  we  owe  alternate  clouds  and  sunshine, 
winds  and  calms,  drought,  moisture,  and  rain, — every  thing^ 
in  short,  that  we  call  weather, — the  changes  of  which  are  so 
essential  to  the  fertility  of  the  earth  and  salubrity  of  the  cli- 
mate. But,  in  the  midst  of  these  alternations,  there  is  an- 
other and  more  extensive  operation  constantly  going  on.  The 
atmosphere  heated  and  expanded  at  the  equator,  is  continually 
flowing  in  the  upper  regions  towards  the  poles,  where,  being 
cooled  and  contracted,  it  acquires  a  retrograde  motion,  and 
flows  back  in  a  perpetual  under-current  towards  the  equator. 
This,  at  least,  is  its  general  bias,  happily  modified,  however, 
by  various  circumstances  and  distu4)ing  forces,  which  retard, 
divert,  and  mingle  the  opposing  currents  ;  and  while  they 
reduce  the  temperature  of  the  one,  increase  that  of  the  other. 
This,  then,  is  one  of  those  providential  contrivances  by  which 
the  fervid  heat  of  the  torrid  zone  is  alleviated,  and  the  exces- 
sive rigour  of  the  polar  regions  is  subdued,  while  the  inter- 


ATMOSPHERE   AND    OCEAN.  29 

vening  temperate  climates  are  rendered  more  salubrious,  and 
the  wide  extent  of  earth  is  prepared  for  the  comfortable  suste- 
nance of  animal  life. 

A  similar  effect  is  produced  by  the  movements  of  the 
ocean.  The  expanded  waters  of  the  equatorial  circle  rush 
towards  the  poles,  carrying  with  them  some  of  the  warmth 
of  those  burning  regions,  which  they  perpetually  pour  into 
the  atmosphere  of  the  temperate  and  frigid  divisions  of  the 
earth  ;  while  the  chilled  and  contracted  waters  of  the  extreme 
north  and  south,  throw  back  their  currents  upon  the  tropics, 
and  thus,  in  their  turn,  modify  the  temperature  in  these  latter 
climates.  In  our  own  quarter  of  the  globe,  we  observe  this 
effect  exemplified  in  what  is  called  the  Gulf-stream  of  the 
Atlantic,  which  is  a  perpetual  current, — occasioned  partly  by 
the  law  already  alluded  to,  and  partly  by  the  form  of  the 
African  and  American  coasts, — running  from  the  northern 
shore  of  South  America,  where  the  heat  is  at  its  maximum^ 
along  the  coast  of  the  United  States,  sweeping  across  from 
Newfoundland  to  the  Icy  Sea,  enveloping  the  British  islands, 
and  thence  returning  along  the  shores  of  France,  Spain,  and 
Africa,  till  it  completes  its  circuit  by  again  reaching  the 
southern  continent  of  America,  and  the  Western  Indies. 
That  the  effect  which  might  be  anticipated  from  this  circula- 
tion is  actually  produced,  we  have  a  proof  in  the  comparative 
mildness  of  the  temperature  in  insular  countries.  The  cli- 
mate of  Great  Britain,  for  example,  is  more  equable  than  that 
of  the  adjoining  continent,  being  considerably  cooler  in  sum- 
mer, and  warmer  in  winter. 

'  Great  as  the  difference  of  temperature  is  in  different  cli- 
mates,' says  Whewell, '  it  would  be  still  greater  if  there  were 
not  this  equalizing  and  moderating  power  exerted  constantly 
over  the  whole  surface.  Without  this  influence,  it  is  proba- 
ble that  the  two  polar  portions  of  the  earth,  which  are  locked 
in  perpetual  snow  and  ice,  and  almost  destitute  of  life,  would 
be  much  increased.'* 

It  thus  appears,  that  there  is  a  constant  circulation  going 

*  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p.  82. 
3* 


30  THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

on  in  the  tAvo  great  fluids  of  air  and  water,  analogous  in 
some  degree  to  that  of  blood  through  the  living  body,  and 
productive  of  the  most  beneficial  effects.  The  manner  in 
which  these  are  attempered  and  combined  is  truly  wonderful, 
and  has  been  the  subject  of  philosophical  investigation.  In 
regard  to  the  air,  Mr.  Whewell  has  shown  in  what  manner 
its  composition  and  laws  are  adjusted,  so  as  to  correspond 
with,  or  to  counteract  and  regulate,  the  different  and  some- 
times antagonist  laws  of  the  vapour  which  constantly  circu- 
lates through  it,  and  to  produce  the  most  salutary  effects. 
This  is  a  question  on  which  I  cannot  fully  enter  ;  but  a  few 
observations  on  the  subject  of  weather,  with  which  it  is  con- 
nected, will  occupy  our  attention  to-morrow. 


FIRST  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

THE    ATMOSPHERE. 

From  the  expansive  power  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the 
irregular  distribution  of  heat  and  cold,  combined  with  the  in- 
equalities on  the  earth's  surface,  arise  those  storms  and  tem- 
pests which  form  one  of  the  most  forbidding  features  in  the 
aspect  of  winter.  This  may  be  regarded  as  an  evil ;  and  it 
is  not  to  be  denied,  that  such  elemental  commotions  are  some- 
times attended  with  very  disastrous  consequences.  When  the 
tremendous  powers  of  nature  are  in  motion,  indeed,  we  might 
well  tremble  and  despair,  did  we  not  know  that  they  are 
under  the  guidance  of  infinite  perfection.  In  rare  instances, 
at  long  intervals,  and  in  limited  spots,  we  are  permitted  to 
witness  proofs  of  the  desolation  which  the  uncontrolled  ele- 
ments might  produce,  that  by  the  contrast  we  may  be  more 
deeply  affected  with  a  sense  of  the  paternal  care  under  which 
we  daily  live.  We  have  heard  of  hurricanes  and  tornadoes 
sweeping  whole  districts  with  the  besom  of  destruction, — of 
the  sirocco  and  simoom  carrying  instant  death  on  their  poi- 
soned wings, — of  mountain  torrents  and  swelling  seas  burst- 


THE   ATMOSPHERE.  31 

ing  their  ancient  boundaries,  and  bearing  wide  desolation  in 
their  raging  waters, — of  thunder  rending  the  heavens,  and 
bolts  of  fire  scathing  the  earth, — of  earthquakes  swallowing 
up  whole  cities,  or  volcanoes  overwhelming  them  with  floods 
of  lava.  But  these  are  only  the  infrequent  exceptions  to  a 
general  rule,  which  has  order  and  happiness  for  its  object, 
teaching  us  at  once  a  lesson  of  humility  and  gratitude. 

If  we  turn  from  this  view  of  what  might  be  the  universal 
state  of  nature,  to  real  events  as  they  occur  under  our  own 
eye,  and  are  the  subject  of  daily  experience,  we  shall  have 
abundant  cause  to  acknowledge  the  presence  of  an-  overruling 
hand.  How  seldom  do  we  actually  observe  any  extensive 
desolation  produced  by  a  winter  storm.  '  All  the  changes  of 
the  weather,'  Mr.  Whewell  well  observes,  '  even  the  most 
violent  tempests  and  torrents  of  rain,  may  be  considered  as 
oscillations  about  the  mean  or  average  condition  belonging  to 
each  place.  All  these  oscillations  are  limited  and  transient ; 
the  storm  spends  its  fury,  the  inundation  passes  off,  the  sky 
clears,  the  calmer  course  of  nature  succeeds.  In  th'e  forces 
which  produce  this  derangement,  there  is  a  provision  for 
making  it  short  and  moderate.  The  oscillation  stops  of  itself, 
like  the  rolling  of  a  ship  when  no  longer  impelled  by  the 
wind.  Now,  why  should  this  be  so  ?  Why  should  the  oscil- 
lations produced  by  the  conflict  of  so  many  laws,  seemingly 
quite  unconnected  with  each  other,  be  of  this  converging 
and  subsiding  character  ?  Is  it  a  matter  of  mechanical  neces- 
sity, that  disturbance  must  end  in  the  restoration  of  the  me- 
dium condition?  By  no  means.  There  may  be  an  utter 
subversion  of  the  equilibrium.  The  ship  may  roll  too  far, 
and  may  capsize.  The  oscillations  may  go  on,  becoming 
larger  and  larger,  till  all  trace  of  the  original  condition  is 
lost ;  till  new  forces  of  inequality  and  disturbance  are  brought 
into  play  ;  and  disorder  and  irregularity  may  succeed,  without 
apparent  limit  or  check  in  its  own  nature,  like  the  spread  of  a 
conflagration  in  a  city.  This  is  a  possibility  in  any  combina- 
tion of  mechanical  forces.  Why  does  it  not  happen  in  the 
one  before  us  1     By  what  good  fortune  are  the  powers  of 


32  THE   ATMOSPHERE. 

heat,  of  water,  ot  steam,  of  air,  the  effects  of  the  earth's  an- 
nual and  diurnal  motions,  and  probably  other  causes,  so  ad- 
justed, that,  through  all  their  struggles,  the  elemental  world 
goes  on,  upon  the  whole,  so  quietly  and  steadily  ?  Why  is 
the  whole  fabric  of  the  weather  never  utterly  deranged,  its 
balance  lost  irrecoverably  V* 

The  complicated  nature  of  the  elements,  which  enter  into 
the  constitution  of  the  atmosphere,  renders  it  difficult,  perhaps 
impossible,  to  give  a  distinct  answer  to  these  interesting 
questions,  by  pointing  to  the  precise  law  which  regulates  and 
controls  these  elements.  Mr.  Whewell  refers  to  the  very 
peculiar  adjustments  which  were  requisite,  and  are  actually 
discoverable,  in  the  comparatively  simple  problem  of  the 
solar  system,  by  which  its  motions  have  their  cycles,  and  its 
perturbations  their  limits  and  period  ;  and,  from  this  analogy, 
he  conjectures,  with  much  probability,  that  could  the  investi- 
gation be  followed  out  with  regard  to  the  atmosphere,  it 
would  land  us  in  a  similar  result.  However  this  may  be,  it 
cannot  but  be  regarded  as  a  mark  of  the  interference  of  an 
intelligent  and  beneficent  mind,  that  the  intensity  of  those 
tremendous  forces  which  are  employed  in  our  atmosphere 
should  be  so  adjusted,  as  not  only  to  preserve  the  permanence 
of  the  system,  but  also  to  be  adapted  to  the  existence  and 
comfort  of  the  animal  creation. 

In  adverting  to  the  general  properties  of  that  wonderful 
fluid  which  envelopes  our  globe  as  with  a  mantle,  the  dis- 
tinguished philosopher  from  whom  we  have  already  quoted, 
makes  the  beautiful  observations,  with  which  we  close  this 
paper. 

'  If  the  atmosphere  be  considered  as  a  vast  machine,  it  ia 
difficult  to  form  any  just  conception  of  the  profound  skill  and 
comprehensiveness  of  design  which  it  displays.  It  diffuses 
and  tempers  the  heat  of  different  climates  ;  for  this  purpose  it 
performs  a  circulation  occupying  the  whole  range  from  the 
pole  to  the  equator  ;  and,  while  it  is  doing  this,  it  executes 
many  smaller  circuits  between  the  sea  and  the  land.  At  the 
♦  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p.  107. 


IGNIS   FATUUS.  33 

same  time,  it  is  the  means  of  forming  clouds  and  rain ;  and, 
for  this  purpose,  a  perpetual  circulation  of  the  watery  part  of 
the  atmosphere  goes  on  between  its  lower  and  upper  regions. 
Besides  this  complication  of  circuits,  it  exercises  a  more  ir- 
regular agency  in  the  occasional  winds  which  blow  from  all 
quarters,  tending  perpetually  to  restore  the  equilibrium  of 
heat  and  moisture.  But  this  incessant  and  multiplied  activity 
discharges  only  a  part  of  the  functions  of  the  air.  It  is 
moreover,  the  most  important  and  universal  material  of  the 
growth  and  sustenance  of  plants  and  animals  ;  and  is  for  this 
purpose  every  where  present,  and  almost  uniform  in  its  quan- 
tity. With  all  its  local  motion,  it  has  also  the  office  of  a 
medium  of  communication  between  intelligent  creatures, 
which  office  it  performs  by  another  set  of  motions,  entirely 
different  both  from  the  circulation  and  occasional  movements 
already  mentioned ;  these  different  kinds  of  motions  not  in- 
terfering materially  with  each  other  ;  and  this  last  purpose, 
so  remote  from  the  others  in  its  nature,  it  answers  in  a  man- 
ner so  perfect  and  so  easy,  that  we  cannot  imagine  that  the 
object  could  have  been  more  completely  attained,  if  this  had 
been  the  sole  purpose  for  which  the  atmosphere  had  been 
created.  With  all  these  qualities,  this  extraordinary  part  of 
our  terrestrial  system  is  scarcely  ever  in  the  way  ;  and  when 
we  have  occasion  to  do  so,  we  put  forth  our  hand  and  push  it 
aside,  without  being  aware  of  its  being  near  us.' 


FIRST  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

IGNIS   FATUUS. 

One  of  the  curious  atmospheric  phenomena  of  winter,  the 
nature  of  which  is  not  well  understood,  and  still  less  its  use 
in  the  economy  of  Providence,  is  that  shining  vapour  which 
generally  makes  its  appearance  in  moist  weather,  in  marshy 
ground,  known  to  the  Romans  by  the  name  of  ignis  fatuus^ 
and  called  by  people  in  this  country  '  Will  o'  Wisp,' — '  Jack 


34  IGNIS    FATUUS. 

with  the  lanthorn,'  and  a  variety  of  other  names,  all  of  them 
indicating  the  superstitious  feeling  with  which  it  is  associated 
in  the  minds  of  the  vulgar.  This  paper  shall  be  chiefly  oc- 
cupied with  some  accounts  that  have  been  published  of  the 
various  appearances  which  the  phenomenon  assumes.  The 
first  I  shall  quote  is  that  of  a  writer  in  a  public  journal,  who 
subscribes  himself  '  A  Farmer,'  and  expresses  himself  Avith 
such  amusing  naivete,  in  describing  some  of  the  ordinary 
vagaries  of  this  reputed  sprite,  that  the  homeliness  of  the 
style  requires  no  apology. 

'  I  was  riding  through  a  wet  boggy  part  of  the  road,  that 
lies  between  my  house  and  the  mill,  when  a  little  sleety 
shower,  with  a  strong  blast  of  wind,  came  suddenly  upon  me, 
and  made  it  so  very  dark,  that  I  could  scarcely  see  my  old 
mare's  white  head.  I  began  to  consider  with  myself,  whether 
it  would  be  better  to  turn  my  back  to  the  storm,  and  wait  till 
it  was  past,  or  take  my  chance  of  letting  my  horse  find  its 
own  way,  when  I  saw  something  bright  dancing  in  the  air 
before  me.  You  may  be  sure  I  was  startled  a  little  at  this  ; 
for  the  rain  was  pouring  so  fast,  and  the  wind  was  blowing 
so  strong,  that  no  ordinary  fire  could  stand  it ;  so  I  whipped 
up  my  horse  to  get  out  of  the  way  as  fast  as  I  could  ;  but  to 
go  fast  was  out  of  the  question,  with  such  an  old  mare,  such 
a  bad  road,  and  so  heavy  a  burden  ;  and,  besides,  I  soon  found 
that  it  served  me  in  no  stead,  for  the  light  still  kept  waving 
before  my  eyes^  so  I  thought  it  would  be  best  to  go  slowly, 
and  try  if  I  could  find  out  what  it  was. 

'  You  may  think  how  surprised  I  was,  when  I  discovered 
that  the  top  of  my  whip-lash  was  all  in  a  flame.  I  had  at 
first  almost  thrown  it  out  of  my  hand  in  my  fright ;  but,  on 
second  thoughts,  I  did  not  like  to  do  that,  for  fear  of  losing  it, 
as  it  was  nearly  new,  and  a  present  from  my  uncle  Robert. 
I  therefore  whisked  it  about  in  my  hand,  and  whipped  my 
horse  with  it,  thinking  to  make  the  flame  go  out ;  but,  though 
it  turned  dim  for  a  few  minutes,  it  soon  became  brighter  than 
ever.  Just  at  this  time,  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  foot  before 
me  ;  and,  when  I  looked,  I  saw  very  distinctly  the  marks  of 


IGNIS   FATUUS.  35 

footsteps  all  on  fire,  close  beside  me ;  but  it  was  so  dark,  I 
could  not  see  whether  any  person  was  there  or  not.  Soon 
afterward,  I  got  upon  better  road,  and  my  poor  mare,  who 
was  herself  frightened,  jogged  faster  on ;  so  I  saw  no  more 
of  it.  I  am  happy  to  tell  you,  that  I  got  home  without  a 
broken  neck,  and  found,  all  well  there,  which  was  more  than 
I  expected  ;  for  I  verily  believed  it  was  a  dead  light,  or  an 
elf  candle,  or  some  other  bad  omen.'* 

M.  Boccari  mentions,  that  a  light  of  this  kind  appeared  to 
a  gentleman  of  his  acquaintance,  as  he  was  travelling  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Bologna,  where  it  is  very  common.  It 
moved  constantly  before  him  for  about  a  mile,  and  gave  a 
better  light  than  a  torch  that  was  carried  by  his  servant. 
Sometimes  it  rose  and  sometimes  sunk,  but  hovered  commonly 
about  six  feet  from  the  ground.  Sometimes  it  appeared  like 
waves,  and,  at  other  times,  seemed  to  drop  sparks  of  fire.  It 
was  little  affected  by  the  wind  ;  but,  during  a  shower  of  rain 
it  became  brighter. 

A  very  remarkable  account  of  a  will  o'  wisp  is  given  by 
Dr.  Shaw,  in  his  Travels  to  the  Holy  Land.  It  appeared  in 
one  of  the  valleys  of  Mount  Ephraim,  and  attended  him  and 
his  company  for  more  than  an  hour.  Sometimes  it  would 
seem  globular,  or  in  the  shape  of  the  flame  of  a  candle.  At 
other  times,  it  would  spread  to  such  a  degree  as  to  involve  the 
whole  company  in  a  pale  inoffensive  light,  then  contract  it- 
self, and  suddenly  disappear ;  but,  in  less  than  a  minute, 
would  appear  again.  Sometimes,  running  swiftly  along,  it 
would  expand  itself,  at  certain  intervals,  over  more  than  two 
or  three  acres  of  the  adjacent  mountain.  The  atmosphere, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  evening,  had  been  remarkably 
thick  and  hazy ;  and  the  dew,  as  they  felt  it  on  the  bridles  of 
their  horses,  was  clammy  and  unctuous. 

In  the  Appendix  to  Dr.  Priestley's  third  volume  of  Ex- 
periments and  Observations  on  Air,  M.  Waltire  gives  an 
account  of  some  very  remarkable  ig7ies  fatui  which  he  ob- 
Berved,  about  five  miles  from  Birmingham,  on  the  12th 
*  Dumfries  Courier,  20th  December,  ?809. 


36  IGNIS   FATUUS. 

December,  1776,  before  daylight  in  the  morning.  A  great 
many  of  these  lights  were  playing  in  a  neighbouring  field, 
in  different  directions ;  from  some  of  which  there  suddenly 
sprang  up  bright  branches  of  light,  something  resembling 
the  explosion  of  a  rocket,  that  contained  many  brilliant  stars ; 
and  the  hedge,  with  the  trees  on  each  side  of  the  hedge,  was 
illuminated.  This  appearance  continued  but  a  few  seconds, 
and  then  the  will  o'  wisps  played  as  before.  M.  Waltire  was 
not  near  enough  to  observe  if  the  apparent  explosions  were 
attended  by  any  report. 

From  these  and  other  facts  which  have  been  recorded,  and 
indeed  from  the  familiar  occurrences  of  the  winter  months,  it 
appears  that  the  ignis  fatuus  belongs  to  a  class  of  phenomena 
which  prove  that  light  and  heat,  though  so  intimately  con- 
nected, may  exist  separately ;  or,  to  speak  more  correctly, 
that  the  peculiar  substance,  whatever  it  may  be,  in  which 
these  qualities  inhere,  contains  sometimes  the  one  in  a  latent 
state,  and  sometimes  the  other.  This  is  only  another  remark- 
able property  of  that  most  Avonderful  substance  which  seems 
to  pervade  universal  nature,  and  to  combine  the  various 
phenomena  of  electricity,  of  galvanism,  and  probably  also  of 
magnetism,  along  with  those  of  light  and  heat,  sometimes  in 
a  quiescent,  and  sometimes  in  a  highly  active  state. 

The  phenomena  of  light  without  heat,  are  not  so  frequent- 
ly the  subject  of  observation  as  those  of  heat  without  light ; 
but  various  well  known,  and  indeed  familiar,  instances  of  the 
latter  do  occur.  Of  this  kind  is  the  light  of  the  glow-worm, 
of  fire-flies,  of  the  medusa  tribe,  which  are  diffused  so  plenti- 
fully over  the  surface  of  the  sea,  in  tropical  regions  ;  of  other 
marine  productions  ;  of  the  scales  of  fish,  and  of  animal  and 
vegetable  substances  in  the  process  of  putrefaction.  Nor  must 
we  forget  the  beams  of  the  moon,  which,  so  far  from  exhibit- 
ing the  presence  of  heat,  are  even  said  by  some  to  be  slightly 
frigorific. 

An  attempt,  more  ingenious,  I  think,  than  successful,  has 
been  made  to  connect  the  light  of  the  ignis  fatuus  with  the 
phenomena  of  falling  stars,  which  may  be  shortly  stated.     It 


IGNIS    FATUUS.  37 

IS  supposed,  that  some  phosphoric  fluid,  ajising  from  the  de- 
composition of  animal  or  vegetable  substances,  passes  into  the 
atmosphere,  and  continues  to  float  there,  without  mixing  with 
the  atmosphere  itself;  that  this  fluid,  when  it  appears  in  the 
form  of  a  will  o'  wisp,  becomes  ignited,  by  some  means,  near 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  at  a  certain  point ;  and  that  this  ig- 
nition communicates  itself  successively  to  other  portions  of 
the  same  fluid,  with  which  it  comes  in  contact,  occasioning 
that  apparently  capricious  flitting  from  place  to  place,  for 
which  this  meteor  is  remarkable  ;  and  it  is  further  supposed, 
that  other  portions  of  a  similar  fluid  pass,  unilluminated,  to 
the  higher  regions  of  the  air,  in  a  continued  column,  till 
they  ascend  above  the  region  of  the  clouds,  where  from  some 
chemical  cause,  the  upper  part  of  the  column  takes  fire,  and 
the  ignition  is  carried  backward  to  the  portions  with  which 
it  is  in  connexion.  Such  is  the  hypothesis ;  and  it  might 
certainly  account  for  some  of  the  appearances  ;  but  it  is  quite 
inadequate  to  the  explanation  of  others ;  and,  as  to  the  phe- 
nomena of  falling  stars,  recent  discoveries  have  opened  views 
on  that  subject,  of  a  nature  far  more  extensive  and  sublime. 

In  the  next  paper,  I  shall  advert  more  particularly  to  some 
phosphorescent  appearances  which  seem  to  resemble  those  of 
the  ignis  fatuus^  and  which  may  perhaps  ultimately  assist  in 
discovering  the  natural  cause  of  the  phenomenon ;  and,  in 
the  meantime,  without  attempting  to  explain  it,  I  shall  merely 
say,  that,  whatever  may  be  its  own  sphere  of  utility,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  it  is  connected  with  a  principle  which 
abundantly  exhibits  the  perfections  of  the  great  Creator. 

We  conclude  this  account  with  a  beautiful  description  of 
these  appearances,  extracted  from  the  'British  Georgics,'  a 
work  of  the  amiable  author  of  '  The  Sabbath.' 

'  Sometimes  November  nights  are  thick  bediinmed 
With  hazy  vapours  floating  o'er  the  ground, 
Or  veiUng  from  the  view  the  starry  host ; 
At  such  a  time,  on  plashy  mead  or  fen 
A  faintish  light  is  seen,  by  southern  swains 
Called  Will-o'  Wisp ;  sometimes  from  rushy  bush 
To  bush  it  leaps,  or,  cross  a  little  rill, 
VOL,  IV.  4 


38  GENERAL    ASPECT    OF    WINTER. 

Dances  from  side  to  side  in  winding  race. 

Sometimes  with  stationary  blaze  it  gilds 

The  heifer's  horns,  or  plays  upon  the  mane 

Of  farmer's  horse  returning  from  the  fair, 

And  lights  him  on  his  way,  yet  often  proves 

A  treacherous  guide,  misleading  from  the  path 

To  faithless  bogs,  and  solid  seeming  ways. 

Sometimes  it  haunts  the  churchyard,  up  and  down 

The  tombstones'  spiky  rail  streaming,  it  shows 

Faint  glimpses  of  the  rustic  sculptor's  art, 

Time's  scythe  and  hour-glass,  and  the  grinning  skull, 

And  bones  transverse,  which,  at  an  hour  like  this, 

To  him,  who  passing,  casts  athwart  the  wall 

A  fearful  glance,  speak  with  a  warning  knell. 

Sometimes  to  the  lone  traveller  it  displays 

The  murderer's  gibbet,  and  his  tatter'd  garb, 

As  lambently  along  the  links  it  gleams.' 


SECOND  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

GENERAL   ASPECT    OF   AVINTER, 

The  general  aspect  of  winter  is  forbidding.  It  is  the  night 
of  the  year  ;  the  period  when,  under  a  mitigated  light,  nature 
reposes,  after  the  active  exertions  of  spring  and  summer  have 
been  crowned  with  the  rich  stores  of  autumn.  We  now  no 
longer  survey  with  admiration  and  delight  those  wonders  of 
creative  power,  which  arrested  our  attention,  in  that  youthful 
season  when  herbs,  plants,  and  trees  awoke  from  their  long 
sleep  and  started  into  new  life,  under  the  kindly  influences  of 
warmer  suns  and  gentler  breezes  ;  and  when  the  feathered 
tribes  made  the  fresh-clothed  woods  and  lawns,  and  the  blue 
sky  itself,  vocal  with  the  music  of  love  and  joy.  Nor  do  we 
now  expatiate  in  the  maturer  beauties  of  summer,  when  light 
and  heat  flushed  the  glowing  heavens  and  smiling  earth,  and 
when  the  clouds  distilled  their  grateful  showers,  or  tempered 
the  intense  radiance  by  their  flitting  shade  :  And  mellow 
autumn  too  has  passed  away,  along  with   the  mprry  song  of 


GENERAL    ASPECT   OF    WINTER.  39 

the  reapers,  and  the  hum  of  busy  men,  gathering  stores  from 
the  teeming  fields. 

Instead  of  these  genial  influences  of  heaven,  our  lengthen- 
ing nights,  and  our  days  becoming  perpetually  darker  and 
shorter,  shed  their  gloom  over  the  face  of  nature  ;  the  earth 
grows  niggardly  of  her  supplies  of  nourishment  and  shelter, 
and  no  longer  spreads  beneath  the  tenants  of  the  field  the  soft 
green  carpet  on  which  they  were  accustomed  to  repose  ;  man 
seeks  his  artificial  comforts  and  his  hoarded  food  ;  the  wind 
whistles  ominously  through  the  naked  trees  ;  the  dark  clouds 
lower  ;  the  chilling  rain  descends  in  torrents ;  and,  as  the 
season  advances,  the  earth  becomes  rigid,  as  if  struck  by  the 
wand  of  an  enchanter  ;  the  waters,  spell-bound,  lie  motionless 
in  crystal  chains  ;  the  north  pours  forth  its  blast,  and  nature 
is  entombed  in  a  vast  cemetery,  whiter  and  colder  than  Parian 
marble. 

Yet,  even  in  this  apparently  frightful  and  inhospitable  sea- 
son, there  are  means  of  pleasure  and  improvement,  which 
render  it  scarcely  inferior  to  any  other  period  of  the  revolving 
year ;  while  proofs  of  the  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness  of 
the  great  Creator  are  not  less  abundantly  displayed  to  the 
mind  of  the  pious  inquirer.  With  reference  to  the  angry 
passions  of  the  human  race,  it  is  said  that  God  '  causes  the 
wrath  of  man  to  praise  him,  and  restrains  the  remainder  of 
wrath ;'  and  a  similar  remark  applies,  with  a  truth  equally 
striking,  to  the  troubled  elements.  The  Almighty  sets  bounds 
to  the  raging  ocean,  saying, '  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  and 
no  further,  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed.'  He 
regulates  by  his  wisdom  the  intensity  of  the  tempest, '  staying 
his  rough  wind  in  the  day  of  the  east  wind.'  All  the  active 
powers  of  nature  are  his  messengers  :  '  Fire  and  hail,  snow 
and  vapour,'  as  well  as  '  stormy  winds  fulfil  his  word.'  Noth- 
ing, indeed,  can  be  more  worthy  of  admiration,  than  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  rigours  of  winter  are  tempered,  so  as  to  con- 
tribute to  the  subsistence  and  comfort  of  living  beings. 

It  is  true  that,  even  in  the  ordinary  occurrences  of  life, 
there  are,  in  winter,  probably  more  distressing  and  fatal  inci- 


40  GENERAL    ASPECT    OF    WINTER. 

dents  tnan  during  the  other  seasons  of  the  year.  A  snow 
storm  may  overwhelm  a  shepherd  and  his  flock  ;  a  tempest 
may  cause  a  gallant  vessel  and  its  crew  to  perish ;  a  fire  may 
lay  a  village  in  ashes  ;  disease,  attendant  on  exposure  to  a 
rigorous  climate,  may  invade  the  unwholesome  and  comfort- 
less huts  of  the  poor ;  or,  in  a  season  when  the  wages  of 
agricultural  labour  cease  along  with  the  power  of  working 
in  the  open  air,  famine  may  emaciate  and  destroy  whole 
families ;  but  such  events  as  these,  melancholy  as  they  are, 
must  be  ranked  among  the  common  evils  of  life,  and  belong 
to  a  class,  marking  a  peculiar  feature  in  the  government  of 
this  fallen  Avorld,  to  which  I  have  previously  adverted,  and 
which  can  never  be  far  from  the  mind  of  the  accurate  ob- 
server of  nature.  At  present  let  us  take  a  rapid  glance  at  the 
other  side  of  the  picture,  and  we  shall  see  enough  to  prove, 
that,  even  in  these  gloomy  months,  the  paternal  care  of  an 
all-wise  and  beneficent  Governor  is  not  less  conspicuous  than 
in  other  periods  of  the  year. 

If  we  look  at  the  lower  animals,  how  wonderful  are  the 
kind  provisions  of  Providence.  Among  the  numerous  tribes 
of  insects,  reptiles,  birds,  and  quadrupeds,  there  appears  to  be 
a  general  presentiment  of  the  coming  desolation.  Some,  im- 
pelled by  a  wonderful  instinct,  provide  for  themselves  com- 
fortable retreats,  each  tribe  adapting  its  accommodation  to  its 
peculiar  circumstances,  burrowing  in  the  earth,  or  boring  be- 
neath the  bark  of  trees  and  shrubs,  or  penetrating  into  their 
natural  hollows,  or  lodging  in  crevices  of  walls  and  rocks, 
or  diving  beneath  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  lying  immove- 
able at  the  bottom  of  pools,  lakes,  or  marshy  streams.  Here 
they  are  preserved  during  this  barren  period,  either  by  feed- 
ing on  the  stores  which,  with  a  foresight  not  their  own,  they 
had  collected  in  the  bountiful  weeks  of  harvest,  or  by  falling 
into  a  deep  sleep,  during  which  they  become  unassailable  by 
the  attacks  either  of  cold  or  of  hunger,  or  by  issuing  daily  or 
nightly  from  their  resting  places,  and  gathering  the  food 
which  a  providential  care  has  reserved  for  them,  and  taught 
them  how  to  seek.     Others,  chiefly  belonging  to  the  winged 


PHOSPHORESCENCE.  41 

tribes,  are  taught  to  migrate  as  the  rigours  of  winter  approach, 
to  more  genial  climates,  where  abundant  food  and  enjoyment 
are  provided  for  them,  and  where  they  are  thus  permitted  to 
expatiate  in  all  the  advantages  of  a  perpetual  yet  varied  sum- 
mer ;  while  these  again  have  their  places  supplied  by  hardier 
species  of  the  feathered  family,  which  the  gathering  storms 
of  more  northern  regions  had  warned  to  leave  their  summer 
haunts. 

If,  from  the  inferior  animal  creation,  we  turn  to  man,  the 
same  traces  of  a  paternal  hand  are  seen  in  providing  against, 
or  compensating  for,  the  privations  of  winter.  If  our  natural 
instincts  and  defences  are  not  so  numerous  as  those  of  the 
brutes,  reason  and  foresight  amply  supply  their  place.  Influ- 
enced by  these,  we  build  comfortable  houses,  of  materials 
which  are  every  where  to  be  found,  and  collect  supplies  of 
fuel  from  bogs  and  forests,  or  dig  them  out  of  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  where  they  are  laid  up  as  in  storehouses  ;  and  we 
rear  flocks  and  herds  to  furnish  us  with  the  means  of  food 
and  clothing.  Meanwhile,  necessary  industry  occupies  and 
cheers  the  dreary  season  ;  and  books  or  social  intercourse  im- 
prove and  exhilarate  the  mind. 

All  these  proofs  of  paternal  care  deserve  and  will  obtain  a 
separate  consideration  ;  but  the  simple  mention  of  them  is 
calculated  to  call  forth  sentiments  of  pious  admiration  and 
gratitude.  '  Who  knoweth  not  all  these,  that  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  hath  wrought  this.' 


SECOND   WEEK— MONDAY. 

PHOSPHORESCENCE. 

The  meteor  known  by  the  name  of  ignis  faiuus,  is  con- 
nected, as  I  observed  in  the  paper  of  Saturday,  with  some 
other  luminous  appearances,  by  this  common  property,  that 
it  gives  out  no  sensible  heat.  Among  animals  which  possess 
the  property  of  shining  with  a  cold  light,  I  mentioned  the 

4* 


42  PHOSPHORESCENCE. 

Medusa  class,  which  sometimes  illuminate  the  whole  surface 
of  the  sea,  and,  in  a  dark  night,  show  like  a  stream  of  liquid 
fire  in  the  wake  of  a  ship.  But,  besides  these,  there  is  a 
great  variety  of  the  larger  inhabitants  of  the  ocean,  which 
have  it  in  their  power  to  emit  a  kind  of  phosphoric  light 
from  their  bodies  at  pleasure  ;  and  this  remarkable  property- 
is  probably  given  them  by  the  Creator,  to  enable  them  to 
pursue  their  prey  in  the  dark  abysses  of  the  sea,  where  the 
beams  of  the  sun  cannot  penetrate.  Among  shoals  of  herrings 
and  pilchards,  flashes  of  light  have  been  frequently  observed 
to  dart,  so  as  to  cast  a  sudden  brilliancy  across  the  whole  ; 
and  oyster-shells,  as  well  as  a  variety  of  minerals,  have  be- 
come phosphorescent  at  certain  temperatures.  These  ap- 
pearances have  been  attributed  to  electricity,  which  is  ren- 
dered probable  by  various  circumstances,  and  seems  to  be 
confirmed  by  the  fact,  that  the  electric  shock  causes  sub- 
stances of  the  kind  last  mentioned,  to  exhibit  the  same  lu- 
minous appearance.  However  this  may  be,  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  the  presence  of  the  electric  fluid  is  not  unfre- 
quently  shown  by  the  production  of  a  harmless  light,  similar 
to  that  of  the  ignis  fatuus.  Sailors  are  not  unacquainted 
with  this  phenomenon,  which  they  regard  with  awe,  and 
which  is  seen  at  night  in  the  form  of  a  star,  illuminating  the 
top-masts  and  yard-arms,  or  gliding  along  the  ropes  of  ships. 
This  light  the  ancients  superstitiously  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  considering  it  a  lucky  omen. 
Mrs.  Somerville  mentions,  that,  in  1831,  the  French  oflicers 
at  Algiers  were  surprised  to  see  brushes  of  light  on  the  heads 
of  their  comrades,  and  at  the  points  of  their  fingers,  when 
they  held  up  their  hands. 

One  of  the  most  striking. appearances  of  this  kind,  which 
occurred  at  sea,  is  thus  graphically  described  by  the  talented 
authoress  above  alluded  to  : — 

'  Captain  Bonnycastle,  coming  up  the  Gulf  of  St.  Law- 
rence, on  the  7th  September,  1826,  was  roused  by  the  mate 
of  the  vessel,  in  great  alarm  from  an  unusual  appearance. 
It  was  a  star-light  night,  when  suddenly  the  sky  became 


PHOSPHORESCENCE.  43 

overcast,  in  the  direction  of  the  high  land  of  Cornwallis 
county,  and  an  instantaneous  and  intensely  vivid  light,  re- 
sembling the  aurora,  shot  out  of  the  hitherto  gloomy  and 
dark  sea,  on  the  lee-bow,  which  was  so  brilliant,  that  it 
lighted  every  thing  distinctl}'-,  even  to  the  mast-head.  The 
light  spread  over  the  whole  sea,  between  the  two  shores ;  and 
the  waves,  which  before  had  been  tranquil,  now  began  to  be 
agitated.  Captain  Bonnycastle  describes  the  scene  as  that 
of  a  blazing  sheet  of  awful  and  most  brilliant  light.  A  long 
and  vivid  line  of  light,  superior  in  brightness  to  the  parts  of 
the  sea  not  immediately  near  the  vessel,  showed  the  base  of 
the  high,  frowning,  and  dark  land,  abreast.  The  sky  became 
lowering,  and  more  intensely  obscure.  Long  tortuous  lines 
of  light  showed  immense  numbers  of  very  large  fish,  darting 
about,  as  if  in  consternation.  The  spritsail-yard  and  mizen- 
boom  were  lighted  by  the  reflection,  as  if  gas-lights  had  been 
burning  directly  below  them ;  and,  until  just  before  day- 
break, at  four  o'clock,  the  most  minute  objects  were  distinctly 
visible.  Day  broke  very  slowly,  and  the  sun  rose  of  a  fiery 
and  threatening  aspect.  Rain  followed.  Captain  Bonny- 
castle caused  a  bucket  of  this  fiery  water  to  be  drawn  up ; 
it  was  one  mass  of  light,  when  stirred  by  the  hand,  and  not 
in  sparks,  as  usual,  but  in  actual  coruscations.  A  portion 
of  the  water  preserved  its  luminosity  for  seven  nights.  On 
the  third  night,  the  scintillations  of  the  sea  re-appeared  ;  this 
evening,  the  sun  went  down  very  singularly,  exhibiting  in 
its  descent  a  double  sun ;  and,  when  only  a  few  degrees 
high,  its  spherical  figm'e  changed  into  that  of  a  long  cylin- 
der, which  reached  the  horizon.  In  the  night,  the  sea  be- 
came nearly  as  luminous  as  before  ;  but,  on  the  fifth  night, 
the  appearance  entirely  ceased.  Captain  Bonnycastle  does 
not  think  it  proceeded  from  animalculas,  but  imagines  it 
might  be  some  compound  of  phosphorus,  suddenly  evolved, 
and  dispersed  over  the  surface  of  the  sea  ;  perhaps  from  the 
exuvisB  or  secretions  of  fish  connected  with  the  oceanic  salts, 
— muriate  of  soda,  and  sulphate  of  magnesia.'* 

♦  Connexion  of  the  Physical  Sciences,  pp.  303,  304. 


44  AUTtOE-A    BOREALIS. 

Such  are  some  of  the  facts  connected  Avith  what  has  been 
called  phosphorescence.  I  shall  make  no  attempt  to  theorize 
on  the  subject.  When  science  is  further  advanced,  it  may 
probably  be  found,  that  phosphorescence,  the  ig?iis  fatuus,  and 
other  innoxious  illuminating  substances,  depend  on  some 
common  property,  which  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  mysteri- 
ous subject  of  light  and  heat,  and  thus  exhibit  a  further  view 
of  the  laws  by  which  the  Creator  regulates  the  material 
world. 


SECOND  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

AURORA   BOREALIS. 

The  aurora  borealis  is  a  phenomenon  undoubtedly  electri- 
cal, connected  in  some  way  with  the  magnetic  poles,  which 
at  times  beautifully  illuminates  our  northern  sky  during  the 
autumnal  and  winter  months.  Its  use  in  the  system  of 
nature  has  not  been  distinctly  ascertained,  though  various 
conjectures  have  been  formed.  Dr.  Halley  supposed  that 
the  earth  was  hollow,  having  within  it  a  magnetical  sphere, 
which  corresponded  in  virtue  with  all  the  magnets  on  the 
surface ;  and  that  the  aurora  was  the  magnetic  effluvia  ren- 
dered by  some  means  visible,  and  passing  through  or  beyond 
the  atmosphere  from  the  north  pole  of  the  central  magnet  to 
that  of  the  south.  Beccaria  adopts  a  similar  idea,  but 
attributes  the  phenomenon  to  the  electric  instead  of  the 
magnetic  fluid, — which,  indeed,  is  now  proved  to  be  the 
same  thing,  these  fluids  being  only  different  exhibitions  of 
the  same  substance.  The  fallacy  of  this  opinion  has,  how- 
ever, been  since  shown  by  the  fact,  that  the  fluid,  whatever 
it  is,  darts  upward  toward  the  zenith  in  the  southern  as  well 
as  in  the  northern  hemisphere,  whereas,  were  there  a  circu- 
lation such  as  has  been  conjectured,  the  course  of  the  fluid 
would  in  the  south  have  been  reversed,  descending  from  the 
zenith   to   the   horizon.     The  supposition  of  Dr.    Faraday, 


AURORA   130REALIS.  45 

therefore,  is,  that  the  electric  equilibrium  of  the  earth  is 
restored  by  the  aurora  conveying  the  electricity  from  the 
poles  to  the  equator. 

Without  attempting  to  settle  a  point  with  regard  to  which 
sufficient  data  have  not  been  collected,  I  shall  content  my- 
self with  describing  some  of  the  remarkable  appearances  of 
this  very  curious  and  interesting  phenomenon. 

One  circumstance  worthy  of  notice  has  already  been 
stated,  namely,  that  the  aurora  bears  some  reference,  not  to 
the  poles  of  the  earth's  rotation,  but  to  what  have  been  called 
the  magnetic  poles.  It  generally  forms  a  kind  of  stationary 
luminous  arch,  of  which  the  magnetic  pole  is  the  centre,  and 
across  this  arch  the  coruscations  are  rapid,  sudden,  and  fre- 
quently of  various  colours.  Its  history  is  curious,  no  very 
distinct  account  having  been  recorded  of  its  appearance  in 
the  classic  ages  of  the  world,  though  we  do  hear  of  '  trabes^ 
and  '  bolides,^  and  '  chasmata^  which  seem  to  refer  to  some 
celestial  phenomena  of  a  similar  nature.  The  first  modern 
account  of  the  aurora  on  record,  is  that  mentioned  as  having 
been  seen  at  London,  on  the  30th  January,  1560 ;  and  during 
the  subsequent  part  of  that  century,  its  appearance  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  very  uncommon.  During  the  seventeenth 
century,  however,  it  appears  to  have  been  scarcely  observed 
at  all,  except  in  one  instance,  in  1621,  when  it  excited  the 
astonishment  of  the  inhabitants  of  France,  and  first  acquired 
the  name  of  the  aurora  borealis.  Since  the  beginning  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  its  visits  in  this  and  other  northern 
countries  have  been  frequent  but  capricious,  there  being  in- 
teivals  of  several  years,  during  which  they  have  been  either 
intermitted  altogether,  or  have  been  of  such  a  nature  as  to 
attract  little  observation. 

In  the  northern  regions,  the  aurora  appears  with  the 
greatest  brilliancy  ;  but  it  does  not  seem  that  the  intense- 
ness  increases,  as  might  be  expected,  in  proportion  to  the 
nearness  of  approach  to  the  magnetic  pole.  In  the  Shet- 
land Islands,  it  cheers  the  winter  nights  almost  constantly 
during  clear  weather.     Its  phenomena  are  there  called  the 


46  AURORA   BOREALIS. 

merry  dancers^  and  are  thus  described:  'They  commonly 
appear  at  twilight,  near  the  horizon,  of  a  dun  colour,  ap- 
proaching to  yellow ;  sometimes  continuing  in  that  state  for 
several  hours,  without  any  sensible  motion  ;  after  which 
they  break  out  into  streams  of  stronger  light,  spreading  into 
columns,  and  altering  slowly  into  ten  thousand  different 
shapes,  varying  their  colours  from  all  the  tints  of  yellow  to 
the  obscurest  russet.  They  often  cover  the  whole  hemisphere,  ^ 
and  then  make  the  most  brilliant  appearance.  Their  mo- 
tions at  these  times  are  amazingly  quick,  and  they  astonish 
the  spectator  with  the  rapid  change  of  their  form.  They 
often  put  on  the  colour  of  blood,  and  make  a  most  dreadful 
appearance.'* 

The  aurora  is  said,  in  the  colder  latitudes,  to  be  attended 
with  a  peculiar  hissing  noise.  Gmelin  mentions  this  very 
distinctly  and  positively  in  the  interesting  account  which  he 
gives  of  it,  as  it  appears  in  Siberia.  '  These  northern  lights,' 
says  he, '  begin  with  single  bright  pillars,  rising  in  the  north, 
and  almost  at  the  same  time  in  the  north-east,  which,  gradu- 
ally increasing,  comprehend  a  large  space  of  the  heavens, 
rush  about  from  place  to  place,  with  incredible  velocity,  and 
finally  almost  cover  the  whole  sky,  up  to  the  zenith.  The 
streams  are  then  seen  meeting  together  in  the  zenith,  and 
produce  an  appearance  as  if  a  vast  tent  was  expanded  in  the 
heavens,  glittering  with  gold,  rubies,  and  sapphires.  A  more 
beautiful  spectacle  cannot  be  painted ;  but,  whoever  should 
see  such  a  northern  light  for  the  first  time,  could  not  behold 
it  without  terror  ;  for  however  fine  the  illumination  may  be, 
it  is  attended,  as  I  have  learned  from  the  relation  of  many 
persons,  with  such  a  hissing,  cracking,  and  rushing  noise 
throughout  the  air,  as  if  the  largest  fireworks  were  playing 
ofT.  To  describe  what  they  then  hear,  they  make  use  of  the 
expression  spolochi  chodjat ;  that  is,  the  raging  host  is  passing. 
The  hunters  who  pursue  the  white  and  blue  foxes,  in  the 
confines  of  the  Icy  Sea,  are  often  overtaken  in  their  course 
by  these  northern  lights.  Their  dogs  are  then  so  much 
*  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  article  Aurora  Borealis. 


AURORA    BOREALIS.  47 

frightened,  that  they  will  not  move,  but  lie  obstinately  on  the 
ground  till  the  noise  has  passed.  Commonly  clear  and  calm 
weather  follows  this  kind  of  northern  lights.  I  have  heard 
this  account,  not  from  one  person  only,  but  confirmed  by  the 
uniform  testimony  of  many,  who  have  spent  part  of  several 
years  in  these  very  northern  regions,  and  inhabited  different 
countries,  from  the  Yenesei  to  the  Lena ;  so  that  no  doubt 
of  its  truth  can  remain.' 

In  Captain  Franklin's  narrative  of  his  journey  to  the 
Polar  Sea,  there  are  some  scientific  observations  on  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  Aurora,  which  throw  considerable  light  on 
this  curious  and  interesting  subject.  The  meteor  is  usually 
conceived  to  have  its  place  very  high  above  the  earth ;  but 
exceedingly  different  elevations  have  been  assigned  to  it  by 
different  philosophers.  Euler  supposed  it  to  be  some  thou- 
sands of  miles  distant,  others  have  fixed  its  place  at  a  few 
hundred  miles,  and  others  again  much  lower.  The  diffused 
nature  of  the  appearance  in  this  country,  renders  it  difficult 
to  make  any  accurate  observation  on  the  subject ;  but  if  the 
Aurora  should  continue  occasionally  to  assume  the  form  of  a 
moveable  luminous  arch,  gliding  slowly  in  a  well-defined 
continuous  body  towards  the  zenith,  as  it  has  lately  done  in 
several  instances  and  in  different  seasons,  observations  taken 
from  various  stations  might  settle  the  point.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  and  however  high  the  northern  lights  may  actually 
rise  in  this  comparatively  southern  latitude,  it  seems  to  be  as- 
certained by  Captain  Franklin  and  his  companions,  that,  in 
the  higher  latitudes  of  North  America,  and  still  nearer  the 
Pole,  the  region  of  the  Aurora  is  not  many  miles  above  the 
earth.  They  discovered,  by  actual  observation,  that,  in  sev- 
eral instances,  it  did  not  rise  higher  than  six  or  seven  miles ; 
and  both  there  and  in  Siberia,  it  would  seem  to  be  often 
much  lower  even  than  this.  The  same  kind  of  appearances 
as  are  described  by  Gmelin,  above  quoted,  appear  sometimes 
to  occur  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  These,  however, 
aie  not  frequent ;  and  the  more  usual  phenomena  partake 


48  AURORA  BOREALIS. 

much  of  the  nature  of  the  following,  which  I  quote  from 
Mr.  Richardson's  interesting  observations  on  this  meteor  : — 

'  When  the  Aurora  had  exhibited  itself  in  this  form  for  a 
considerable  space  of  time,  the  whole  mass  of  light  suddenly- 
appeared  in  motion,  and,  sweeping  round  on  each  side,  Avas 
gathered  together  to  the  southward  of  the  zenith.  Immedi- 
ately thereafter,  a  large  portion  of  it  was  seen  in  the  S.  E., 
assuming  an  exact  resemblance  to  a  curtain  suspended  in  a 
circular  form  in  the  air,  and  hanging  perpendicularly  to  the 
earth's  surface.  The  lower  edge  of  this  curtain  was  very- 
luminous,  and  had  a  waving  motion ;  and  the  illusion  was 
farther  heightened  by  the  momentary  appearance  of  perpen- 
dicular dark  lines  or  breaks  in  the  light,  in  rapid  succession 
round  the  circle,  exactly  as  the  waving  of  a  curtain  would 
cause  the  dark  shades  of  its  folds  to  move  along  it.  This 
beautiful  curtain  of  light  was  about  40°  high,  and  of  a  pale 
yellowish  colour,  and  sent  forth  on  the  one  side  a  process 
which  approached  the  S.E.  by  E.  point  of  the  horizon,  and 
t^ie  other  was  connected  with  a  long  regular  arch,  termina- 
ting in  the  N.W.  horizon,  similarly  constructed,  and  having 
the  same  waving  motion  with  the  curtain  itself  All  this 
time  the  sky  was  perfectly  clear,  except  in  the  southern  quar- 
ter, which,  to  the  height  of  4°  or  5°,  was  occupied  by  dark 
clouds,  apparently  intermediate  between  stratus  and  cirro- 
stratus. 

'  Half  an  hour  after  its  first  appearance,  this  curtain-formed 
Aurora  was  resolved  into  a  number  of  detached  irregular 
portions,  which  sometimes  increased  rapidly  in  every  direc- 
tion, until  they  met  with  other  masses,  either  before  existing, 
or  appearing  at  the  instant,  and  formed  an  uniform  sheet  of 
light,  which  covered  the  whole  sky.  The  formation  of  this 
great  sheet  of  light  was  so  rapid,  that  the  eye  could  only 
trace  its  progress  partially ;  and  its  dissolution  and  reappear- 
ance were  equally  sudden.'* 

*  Franklin's  Narrative,  p.  621. 


METEORIC    SHOWERS.  49 

SECOND   WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

METEORIC    SHOWERS. 

I  HAVE  now  to  mention  another  celestial  phenomenon  of  a 
very  singular  nature,  connected  with  two  days  in  the  present 
week,  which  has  lately  attracted  the  attention  of  the  scientific 
world.  The  following  account  of  it  I  extract  from  Mrs. 
Somerville's  '  Connexion  of  the  Physical  Sciences.' 

'On  the  morning  of  the  12th  of  November,  1799,  thou- 
sands of  shooting  stars,  mixed  with  large  meteors,  illumi- 
nated the  heavens  for  many  hours,  over  the  whole  continent 
of  America,  from  Brazil  to  Labrador ;  they  extended  to 
Greenland,  and  even  Germany.  Meteoric  showers  were 
seen  off  the  coast  of  Spain,  and  in  the  Ohio  country,  on  the 
morning  of  13th  November,  1831  ;  and  during  many  hours, 
on  the  morning  of  13th  November,  1832,  prodigious  niulti- 
tudes  of  shooting  stars  and  meteors  fell  at  Mocha,  on  the  Red 
Sea,  in  the  Atlantic,  in  Switzerland,  and  at  many  places  in 
England.*  But  by  much  the  most  splendid  meteoric  shower 
on  record,  began  at  9  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  12th  Novem- 
ber, 1833,  and  lasted  till  sunrise  next  morning.  It  extended 
from  Niagara  and  the  northern  lakes  of  America,  to  the 
south  of  Jamaica,  and  from  61°  of  longitude  in  the  Atlantic, 
to  100°  of  longitude  in  Central  Mexico.  Shooting  stars  and 
meteors,  of  the  apparent  size  of  Jupiter,  Venus,  and  even  the 
full  moon,  darted  in  myriads  toward  the  horizon,  as  if  all  the 
stars  in  the  heavens  had  started  from  their  spheres.  They 
are  described  as  having  been  as  frequent  as  flakes  of  snow 
in  a  snow-storm,  and  to  have  been  seen  with  equal  brilliancy 
over  the  greater  part  of  the  continent  of  North  America. 

*  The  French  Academy  of  Sciences  have  taken  an  interest  in  the  dis- 
cussion to  which  this  phenomenon  has  given  rise,  and  it  appears,  from 
the  recent  communication  of  M.  L.  Ekberte,  that  the  meteoric  shower  of 
13th  November,  1832,  extended  even  to  the  Mauritius,  where  it  is  said  to 
have  been  seen  at  the  same  period,  and  with  the  same  appearances,  as  in 
other  parts  of  the  world.— iVofc  to  Third  Editim,  December,  1837. 

VOL.  IV.  5 


50  METEORIC    SHOWERS. 

'  Those  who  witnessed  this  grand  spectacle,  were  surprised 
to  see  that  every  one  of  the  luminous  bodies  without  excep. 
tion,  moved  in  lines,  w^liich  converged  in  one  point  in  the 
heavens ;  none  of  them  started  from  that  point ;  but  their 
paths,  when  traced  backwards,  met  in  it,  like  rays  in  a  focus, 
and  the  measure  of  their  fall  showed  that  they  descended 
from  it  in  nearly  parallel  straight  lines  towards  the  earth. 

'  By  far  the  most  extraordinary  part  of  the  whole  phe- 
nomenon is,  that  this  radiant  point  was  observed  to  remain 
stationary  near  the  star  y  Leonis,  for  more  than  two  hours 
and  a  half,  which  proved  the  source  of  the  meteoric  shower 
to  be  altogether  independent  of  the  earth's  rotation,  and  its 
parallax  showed  it  to  be  far  above  the  atmosphere. 

'  As  a  body  could  not  be  actually  at  rest  in  that  position, 
the  group  must  either  have  been  moving  round  the  earth  or 
the  sun.  Had  it  been  moving  round  the  earth,  the  course 
of  the  meteors  would  have  been  tangential  to  its  surface, 
whereas  they  fell  almost  perpendicularly,  so  that  the  earth, 
in  its  annual  revolution,  must  have  met  with  the  group. 
The  bodies  that  were  nearest,  must  have  been  attracted  to- 
wards the  earth  by  its  gravity ;  and  as  they  were  estimated 
to  move  at  the  rate  of  fourteen  miles  in  a  second,  they  must 
have  taken  fire  on  entering  our  atmosphere,  and  have  been 
consumed  in  their  passage  through  it. 

'  As  all  the  circumstances  of  the  phenomenon  were  similar, 
on  the  same  day,  and  during  the  same  hours,  in  1832,  and 
a^  extraordinary  flights  of  shooting  stars  were  seen  at  many 
places,  both  in  Europe  and  America,  on  13th  November, 
1834,  tending  also  from  a  fixed  point  in  the  constellation  Leo, 
it  has  been  conjectured,  with  much  apparent  probability,  that 
this  group  of  bodies  performs  its  revolution  round  the  sun  in 
a  period  of  about  182  days,  in  an  elliptical  orbit,  whose 
major  axis  is  1 19,000,000  of  miles  ;  and  that  its  aphelion  dis- 
tance, where  it  comes  in  contact  with  the  earth's  atmosphere, 
is  about  95,000  000  of  miles,  or  nearly  the  same  with  the 
mean  distance  of  the  earth  from  the  sun.'* 

♦  Mrs.  Somerville  on  the  Physical  Sciences,  pp.  404,  405. 


METEORIC    SHOWERS.  61 

These  views  correspond  with  those  of  the  most  celebrated 
living  astronomers.  M.  Arago,  from  the  facts  mentioned, 
concludes  that  'a  new  planetary  world  is  about  to  be  re- 
vealed to  us ;'  and,  at  all  events,  there  does  seem  to  be  a 
stream  of  innumerable  bodies,  comparatively  small,  but  of 
various  dimensions,  moving  constantly  round  the  sun,  whose 
orbit  cuts  that  of  our  earth,  at  the  point  which  it  occupies,  on 
the  12th  or  13th  of  November  every  year.*     For  any  thing 

*  The  phenomenon   of   meteoric  showers   at  the  above  mentioned 
period,  has  continued  yearly  to  attract  the  attention  of  astronomers  down 
to  the  present  time  (1840).     But  this  curious  subject  requires,  and  is  re- 
ceiving,   further  investigation.     It  would   appear  that  similar  showers 
have  been  observed  to  take  place  about  the  10th  day  of  August.     The 
following  account,  attested  by  M.  Von  Boguslawski,  and  dated  Breslaw; 
14th  August,  1839,  is  abridged  from  the  Prussian  State  Gazette :—' The 
sky  has  been  again  particularly  propitious  for  observing  another  fall  of 
stars.     On  many  days  and  nights  preceding  the  10th,  the  heavens  had 
been  so  covered  that  we  could  not  observe  when  the  uncommonly  fre- 
quent fall  of  stars  commenced.     On  the  10th  of  August,  however,  our 
hopes  of  seeing  the  phenomena  increased,  owing  to  the  clearness  of  the 
weather,  and  we  were  perfectly  satisfied  towards  night  time.     Already,  as 
early  as   dusk,   an   extraordinary   fall  of  stars  began.     At  twenty-six 
minutes  past  nine,  all  the  observers,  fifteen  in  number,  were  assembled, 
occupying  six  windows  of  the  observatory.     Four  gentlemen  took  care 
to  observe  and  register  the  time  of  each  appearance,  according  to  two 
clocks.     Till  fourteen  minutes  past  three,  when  dawn  put  a  stop  to  the 
observations,   they   noticed   1008  foiling   stars,   not  including  numbers 
which  must  have  been  overlooked,  because  the  number  of  observers  was 
insufficient.     Sometimes  the  stars  succeeded  so  rapidly,  that  nothing  but 
the  time  could  be  noted  down.     The  course  of  only  977  have,  therefore, 
been  marked  upon  the  star-maps,  with  all  the  circumstances  relative  to 
them.     The  following  result  is  as  near  the  exact  truth  as  possible: — Five 
stars  appeared  as  bright  as  Venus,  fourteen  as  Jupiter,  238  as  stars  of  the 
first  magnitude,  354  were  noted  of  the  second,  and  257  of  the  third  mag- 
nitude; 101  were  reckoned  smaller  still,  and  the  size  of  eight  was  omitted 
in  the  hurry;  273  exhibited  themselves  with  tails.     Three  of  our  zealous 
observers  devoted  the  following  night  also  to  science,  and  saw  323  falling 
stars,  whilst  the  sky  was  partly  covered.     In  the  night  of  August  12,  an 
observer  counted  103  more,  from  ten  o'clock  to  45  minutes  past   one. 
Therefore,  the  annual  periodical  return  of  an  uncommon  fall  of  stars  to- 
wards the  10th  of  August,  is  once  more  confirmed,  as  well  as  that  the 
passage  of  this  host  of  meteors  near  the  earth  lasts  several  days.-   If  i<- 


52  METEORIC    SHOWERS. 

that  we  can  tell,  indeed,  there  may  be  vast  numbers  of  bodies 
circling  round  the  sun,  and  even  round  the  earth  itself, 
which,  on  account  of  their  minuteness  and  opacity  escape 
human  observation.  Such  a  supposition  serves  to  explain 
the  meteoric  appearances  Avhich  are  constantly  occurring  in 
the  clear  nights  of  winter,  and  which  might,  perhaps,  be  not 
less  common  in  summer,  were  the  operations  in  the  upper 
regions  equally  visible  at  that  season. 

Falling  stars  would  seem  to  be  nothing  else  than  bodies 

were  possible,  with  the  aid  of  corresponding  observations,  to  calculate 
the  direction  of  their  passage  with  reference  to  the  movement  of  the 
earth  and  their  rapidity,  we  should  then  be  able  to  form  a  notion  of  the 
extent  which  these  multitudes  of  stars  occupy  in  space.'  In  the  begin- 
ning of  September  of  the  same  year,  a  similar  phenomenon  is  described 
as  having  taking  place  in  London  and  its  neighbourhood.  The  article, 
which  I  extract  from  the  London  newspapers  of  3d  September,  1839, 
after  stating  that,  on  the  night  of  the  first  of  that  month,  a  vast  sheet  of 
light  arose  in  the  northern  part  of  the  heavens,  which  filled  the  inhabi- 
tants of  London  with  consternation,  and  set  all  the  fire-engines  in  mo- 
tion, as  it  had  all  the  appearance  of  a  tremendous  conflagration,  proceeds 
thus: — 'At  two  o'clock  yesterday  morning  (2d,)  the  phenomenon  pre- 
sented a  most  gorgeous  scene,  and  one  very  difficult  to  describe.  The 
whole  of  London  was  brightly  illuminated,  and  the  atmosphere  was  re- 
markably clear.  The  southern  hemisphere  at  the  time  mentioned,  al- 
though unclouded,  was  very  dark,  but  the  stars,  which  were  innumer- 
able, shone  beautifully.  The  opposite  side  of  the  heavens  presented  a 
singular  but  magnificent  contrast;  it  was  clear  to  the  extreme,  and  the 
light  was  very  vivid ;  there  was  a  continual  succession  of  meteors,  which 
varied  in  splendour.  They  apparently  formed  in  the  centre  of  the 
heavens,  and  spread  till  they  seemed  to  bui-st ;  myriads  of  small  stars 
shot  out  over  the  horizon,  and  darted  with  such  swiftness  towards  the 
earth  that  the  eye  scarcely  could  follow  the  track ;  they  seemed  to  burst 
also,  and  throw  a  deep  crimson  vapour  over  the  entire  hemisphere.  The 
colours  were  most  magnificcnf.  At  half-past  two  o'clock,  the  spectacle 
changed  to  darkness,  which,  on  dispersing,  displayed  a  luminous  rain- 
bow in  the  zenith  of  the  heavens,  and  round  the  ridge  of  darkness,  that 
overhung  the  southern  portion  of  the  country.  Soon  afterwards,  colours 
of  silvery  light  radiated  from  it ;  they  increased  wonderfully,  intermingled 
amongst  crimson  vapour,  which  formed  at  the  same  time,  and  when 
at  the  full  height,  the  spectacle  was  beyond  all  imagination.  Stars  were 
darting  about  in  all  directions,  and  continued  until  four  o'clock,  when 
all  died  away.' — Note  to  the  ith  "Edition. 


METEORIC    SHOWERS.  53 

of  this  description,  rendered  visible  from  being  ignited  by 
the  rapidity  of  their  passage  through  our  atmosphere,  or  by 
some  chemical  cause  ;  and  meteoric  stones,  the  fall  of  which 
is  much  more  frequent  than  is  commonly  supposed,  may  be 
accounted  for  in  the  same  way.  Some  of  the  latter  are  of 
great  magnitude,  exceeding,  in  certain  instances,  seventy 
miles  in  diameter.  Mrs.  Somerville  mentions  one  which 
passed  within  twenty-five  miles  of  us,  and  was  estimated  to 
weigh  about  600,000  tons,  and  to  move  with  a  velocity  of 
about  twenty  miles  in  a  second.  This  huge  mass  was  provi- 
dentially prevented  from  striking  the  earth,  a  detached  frag- 
ment of  it  alone  having  yielded  to  the  force  of  our  planet's 
gravitation.  It  is  remarkable,  that  the  chemical  composition 
of  these  meteoric  stones,  while  it  materially  differs  from  that 
of  the  ordinary  strata  of  our  globe,  is  uniform  and  almost 
identical  as  regards  themselves. 

What  part  these  mysterious  bodies  act  in  the  system  of 
the  universe,  we  cannot  tell, — perhaps  we  may  never  be  able 
even  to  conjecture  ;  but  we  may  well  learn  from  the  analogy 
of  objects  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  that  even  they  are 
not  useless  appendages  of  our  solar  system ;  and,  at  all 
events,  we  are  bound  confidently  to  believe,  that  such  bodies 
are  as  much  under  the  control  of  the  Creator,  as  every  other 
part  of  the  creation,  and  can  never,  independent  of  the  Di- 
vine fiat,  disturb  the  equilibrium  of  our  planet,  or  interfere 
with  the  happiness  of  its  inhabitants.  It  is  the  delightful 
result  of  religious  belief  to  be  assured,  that,  however  threat- 
ening may  be  the  aspect  assumed  by  scientific  discoveries, 
there  is  not  an  object  in  nature  left  to  the  reckless  sway  of 
chance  ; — that  all  things  are  adjusted  with  unerring  wisdom, 
managed  by  infinite  power,  and  over-ruled  for  good  with 
paternal  care. 

5* 


54  VARIETY    OF    CLIMATES. 

SECOND  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

A^ARIETY    OF    CLIMATES. 

The  difference  of  climates  arises,  as  I  have  already  ob- 
served, from  the  spherical  figure  and  inclined  position  of  the 
earth,  which  turns  a  single  ring  on  its  surface  to  the  direct 
rays  of  the  sun,  oscillating  between  two  defined  limits,  and 
subjects  all  the  rest,  more  or  less,  to  his  oblique,  and  therefore 
less  powerful,  influence.  The  effect  of  this  is,  the  production 
of  all  the  varieties  of  heat  and  cold,  from  the  fervid  glow  of 
the  tropics,  to  the  perpetual  ice  and  snow  in  the  regions  of 
the  poles.  The  adaptation  of  plants  and  animals  to  these 
diversities,  forms  a  most  curious  subject  of  consideration, 
which  will  be  afterwards  examined  with  reference  to  the 
respective  seasons  ;  but  as  allusion  has,  in  the  preceding  pa- 
per, been  made  to  the  advantages  derived  from  a  variety  of 
climates,  it  may  be  useful  here  to  pursue  this  subject  a  little 
further. 

It  has  been  with  truth  observed,  that  the  development  of 
the  human  faculties  depends  mainly  upon  our  wants,  either 
natural  or  artificial,  and  these  again  are  increased  or  re- 
strained in  proportion  to  the  means  of  indulgence,  so  that  the 
influence  is  reciprocal.  We  are  naturally  indolent,  but  stand 
in  need  of  activity,  for  giving  vigour  both  to  our  mental  and 
physical  powers.  We,  therefore,  require  a  strong  stimulus 
to  exertion  ;  and  that  stimulus  is  to  be  found  in  our  wants,  a 
circumstance  which  has  given  rise  to  the  well-known  proverb, 
— Necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention. 

Were  all  the  productions  of  the  earth  to  be  spontaneous 
and  abundant,  it  may  well  be  questioned  if  man  would  ever 
rise  above  the  level  of  the  most  degraded  savage.  This  ob- 
servation is  strikingly  sustained  and  illustrated  by  history, 
which  informs  us  that  a  prostration  of  all  the  energies  of 
body  and  mind  has  been  uniformly  found  among  the  native 
inhabitants  of  tropical  regions,  where  nature  is  lavish  of  her 


VARIETY    OF    CLIMATES.  55 

Stores,  and  that  it  is  to  the  dwellers  in  countries  where  the 
necessaries  of  life  are  more  scantily  produced,  that  we  are  to 
look  for  a  race,  hardy,  vigorous,  and  intelligent.  To  what 
extent  the  direct  effects  of  an  intense  heat  co-operate  with  the 
more  indirect  cause  we  are  now  considering,  in  producing 
this  enervated  state,  it  may  be  difficult  to  determine ;  but  that 
a  mere  physical  influence  is  not  the  only,  or  indeed  the  chief 
agent,  cannot  be  doubted.  While  the  natives  of  regions 
where  plenty  reigns,  indulging  their  natural  appetites  with- 
out exertion  and  without  restraint,  sink  deeper  and  deeper  in 
indolence  and  effeminacy,  those  of  less  bountiful  countries, 
finding  an  increased  population  pressing  hard  on  the  means 
of  subsistence,  are  stimulated  by  their  wants  to  vigorous  ex- 
ertion, and  from  sheer  necessity  are  rendered  active,  ingenious, 
and  enterprising.  Among  the  first  effects,  which  history 
describes  as  produced  by  this  difference  in  character  and 
cri  cum  stances,  are  the  warlike  irruptions  of  the  hardy  tribes 
of  the  north  on  the  luxuriant  inhabitants  of  the  south,  ac- 
companied by  extensive  conquests,  and  ending  in  the  perma- 
nent settlement  of  these  nations  in  the  fertile  regions  of  which 
they  took  forcible  possession.  The  stimulus  which  was  thus 
given  to  the  human  faculties,  has  frequently  been  permanent, 
and  has  produced  extensive,  and  eventually  important,  conse- 
quences on  the  improvement  of  the  species. 

This,  however,  is  mentioned  only  incidentally,  my  object 
at  present  being  merely  to  show  the  salutary  effect  of  a 
limited  and  comparatively  scanty  supply  of  the  necessaries  of 
life,  arising  from  what  may,  as  regards  production,  be  con- 
sidered an  unfavourable  climate.  But  this  remark  has  its 
limitations ;  and  I  must  not  neglect  to  state,  that  cold  and 
consequent  privation,  when  carried  to  an  extreme,  have  a 
depressing  effect  of  a  different  kind.  The  natives  of  Green- 
land, and  the  other  countries  bordering  on  the  Arctic  Circle, 
are  not  less  degraded  in  the  scale  of  intellect  than  the  Negro 
race  in  the  torrid  wilds  of  Africa.  It  is  in  the  regions  within 
the  Temperate  Zone  that  the  mind  of  man,  along  with  his 
bodily  powers,  seems  most  freely  and  vigorously  to  expand. 


56  VARIETY   OF    CLIMATES. 

He  is  here  situated  in  regions  not  only  peculiarly  suited  to 
his  bodily  constitution,  but  to  the  development  of  his  moral 
and  intellectual  faculties.  The  variety  of  chmate,  alternating 
between  moderate  heat  and  mitigated  cold,  Avhile  it  requires 
attention  to  the  comforts  of  clothing  and  habitation  in  their 
adaptation  to  the  changes  of  the  seasons,  and  thus  exercises 
his  ingenuity,  presses  still  more  powerfully  on  the  resources 
of  his  mind,  by  the  cessation,  during  a  considerable  part  of 
the  year,  of  that  supply  of  the  necessaries  of  existence,  which, 
at  another  season,  is  afforded  in  comparative  abundance. 
Under  the  influence  of  these  circumstances,  man  becomes,  by 
a  kind  of  moral  and  physical  necessity,  a  storing  animal ; 
and  habits  of  forethought,  thus  engendered,  are  strength- 
ened and  increased  by  exercise,  till  the  mercantile  spirit  is 
produced. 

The  same  tendency  is  encouraged  by  the  diversified  pro- 
ductions of  different  soils,  of  changing  seasons,  of  various 
elevations  from  the  mountain  to  the  valley,  of  adjoining  is- 
lands and  continents,  and  even  of  more  distant  regions. 
Placed  in  the  middle,  between  the  two  extremes  of  climate, 
the  productions  of  the  north  and  of  the  south  are  equally 
within  reach  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  temperate  zones  ;  and 
experience  soon  teaches  him  the  enjoyment  and  comfort  of 
accumulating  from  both  quarters.  The  neighbourhood  of 
seas,  lakes,  and  rivers,  contributes  much  to  the  fostering  of 
this  spirit,  by  affording  facilities  of  intercourse  which  could 
not  otherwise  be  obtained  ;  and,  accordingly,  we  find  that 
the  early  efforts  of  commercial  enterprise  have  been  chiefly 
confined  to  such  localities,  or,  at  least,  have  derived  their  origin 
or  their  stimulus  from  them.  It  is  true,  that  the  first  traders 
of  whom  we  read,  were  among  the  descendants  of  Ishmael, 
a  wandering  and  active  inland  tribe  ;  but  it  was  to  the  mari- 
time land  of  Egypt  that  they  were  directing  their  course  for 
conducting  their  petty  traffic.  The  rise  of  the  mercantile 
spirit  in  Egypt  is  easily  accounted  for,  on  the  principles  to 
which  we  had  adverted.  Situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile, 
a  navigable  river,  with  the  Red  Sea  towards  the  south,  and 


EFFECT    OF    THE    COMMERCIAL   SPIRIT,   ETC.  57 

the  broad  Mediterranean  towards  the  north,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  the  Egyptians  should  have  been  among  the  earliest  and 
most  successful  merchants  of  ancient  times.  A  similar  re- 
mark may  apply  to  Tyre,  Sidon,  and  Carthage,  where  the 
mercantile  spirit  also  prevailed.  And,  indeed,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  regard  the  subsequent  civilization  of  European  nations, 
surrounded  as  they  are  by  facilities  for  navigation,  and  situ- 
ated in  a  climate  possessing  all  the  properties  we  have  de- 
scribed, as  the  natural,  or  rather  providential,  result  of  the 
same  principles. 


SECOND  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

PRACTICAL    EFFECT    OF    THE    COMMERCIAL    SPIRn   PRODUCED   BY 
A    VARIETY    OF    CLIMATES. 

It  would  be  very  interesting  to  trace  the  progress  of  a 
mercantile  spirit,  arising  from  the  wants  of  one  climate,  and 
the  superabundance  of  another ;  but  this  is  a  speculation 
which  I  cannot  at  present  stop  to  pursue  in  its  various  bear- 
ings; and  I  must  confine  myself  to  a  rapid  view  of  the  prac- 
tical effects  actually  produced  by  it  in  European  countries, 
and  especially  in  our  own. 

The  desire  to  possess,  when  once  thoroughly  awakened, 
becomes  insatiable  ;  and  this,  again,  gives  a  proportionate 
stimulus  to  the  spirit  of  enterprise,  which  induces  the  travel- 
ler to  urge  his  discoveries,  and  the  trader  to  compass  sea  and 
land  in  the  transport  of  produce  from  country  to  country  ;  while 
the  artificer,  the  manufacturer,  and  the  agriculturist,  each  in 
his  own  department,  exert  their  industry,  skill,  and  ingenuity, 
in  turning  to  account  the  knowledge  and  the  materials  which 
thus  flow  in  upon  them.  It  is  because  neither  the  climate 
nor  the  soil  of  any  one  country  is  naturally  suited  to  the  pro- 
duction of  all  the  luxuries  and  conveniences  which  man 
covets,  and  because,  even  where  these  objects  of  desire  might 


5S  EFFECT    OF    THE    COMMERCIAL    SPIRIT 

be  produced  by  human  industry',  they  are  not  naturally  to  be 
found,  that  the  intercourse  between  distant  countries  takes 
place,  on  which  so  much  of  the  civilization  of  the  world  de- 
pends. The  ingenuity  of  man  being  thus  stimulated,  pro- 
duces the  most  surprising  changes,  and  promotes,  in  an 
astonishing  degree,  the  means  of  human  subsistence  and 
enjoyment.  It  is  not  merely  that  the  varied  riches  of  other 
lands  are  imported,  but  that  an  essential  aheration  is  effected 
in  the  actual  produce  of  the  soil. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  noticed  by  Mr.  AVhewell,  that 
where  man  is  an  active  cultivator,  he  scarcely  every  bestows 
much  of  his  care  on  those  vegetables  which  the  land  would 
produce  in  a  state  of  nature.  He  improves  the  soil,  he  even 
improves  the  climate,  by  his  skilful  labours,  and  he  thus  ren- 
ders both  fit  for  sustaining  and  nourishing  plants  of  a  higher 
quality.  He,  therefore,  does  not  generally  select  the  more 
valuable  of  the  natural  productions,  and  improve  them  by 
careful  culture,  but,  for  the  most  part,  he  expels  the  native 
possessors  of  the  land,  and  introduces  colonies  of  strangers. 
This  remark  he  proceeds  to  exemplify  in  the  condition  of  our 
own  part  of  the  globe. 

'  Scarcely  one  of  the  plants,'  he  says,  •  which  occupy  our 
fields  and  gardens,  is  indigenous  to  the  country.  The  wal- 
nut and  the  peach  come  to  us  from  Persia  ;  the  apricot  from 
Armenia.  From  Asia  Minor  and  Syria,  -we  have  the  cherry- 
tree,  the  fig,  the  pear,  the  pomegranate,  the  olive,  the  plum, 
and  the  mulberry.  The  vine  which  is  now  cultivated,  is  not 
a  native  of  Europe  :  it  is  found  wild  on  the  shores  of  the 
Caspian,  in  Armenia,  and  Caramania.  The  most  useful 
species  of  plants,  the  cereal  vegetables,  are  certainly  strangers, 
though  their  birth-place  seems  to  be  an  impenetrable  secret. 
Some  have  fancied  that  barley  is  found  wild  on  the  banks  of 
the  Semara,  in  Tartary- :  rye  in  Crete  ;  wheat  at  Baschkiros, 
in  Asia  ;  but  this  is  held  by  the  best  botanists  to  be  very 
doubtful.  The  potato,  which  has  been  so  widely  diffused 
over  the  world,  in  modern  times,  and  has  added  so  much  to 


PRODUCED  BY    VARIETY  OF    CLIMATES.  69 

the  resources  of  life  in  many  countries,  has  been  found 
equally  difficult  to  trace  back  to  its  wild  condition.'* 

'  In  our  own  country,'  Mr.  Whewell  goes  on  to  observe, 
'  a  higher  state  of  the  arts  of  life  is  marked  by  a  more  ready 
and  extensive  adoption  of  foreign  productions.  Our  fields 
are  covered  with  herbs  from  Holland,  and  roots  from  Ger- 
many ;  with  Flemish  farming,  and  Swedish  turnips  ;  our 
hills  with  forests  of  the  firs  of  Norway.  The  chesnut 
and  the  poplar  of  the  south  of  Europe  adorn  our  lawns,  and 
below  them  flourish  shrubs  and  flowers,  from  every  clime,  in 
profusion.  In  the  meantime,  Arabia  improves  our  horses, 
China  our  pigs,  North  America  our  poultry,  Spain  our 
sheep,  and  almost  every  country  sends  its  dog.  The  pro- 
ducts which  are  ingredients  in  our  luxuries,  and  which  we 
cannot  naturalize  at  home,  we  raise  in  our  colonies ;  the 
cotton,  coflee,  and  sugar,  of  the  East,  are  thus  transplanted  to 
the  farthest  West ;  and  man  lives  in  the  middle  of  a  rich 
and  varied  abundance,  which  depends  on  the  facility  with 
which  plants  and  animals,  and  modes  of  culture  can  be 
transferred  into  lands  far  removed  from  those  in  which 
nature  had  placed  them.  And  this  plenty  and  variety  of 
material  comforts  is  the  companion  and  the  mark  of  advan- 
tages and  improvements  in  social  life,  of  progress  in  art  and 
science,  of  activity  of  thought,  of  energy  of  purpose,  and  of 
ascendancy  of  character.' 

This  splendid  display  of  the  effects  of  commercial  and 
agricultural  intercourse,  which  might  easily  be  enlarged,  de- 
pending, as  that  intercourse  mainly  does,  on  the  influence, 
direct  and  indirect,  of  varieties  of  climate  on  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  serves  to  show  a  wise  and  beneficent  intention  in 
so  unequal  a  distribution  of  temperature,  and  brings  us  back 
to  the  conclusion,  that  whatever  partial  inconveniences  may 
accompany  such  arrangement,  these  are  vastly  counter, 
balanced  by  the  advantages  of  which  it  is  productive.     If  it 

*  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p.  71. — He  observes  in  a  note,  that 
it  appears  now  to  be  ascertained  that  the  edible  pf>tato  is  found  wild  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Valparaiso. 


ISO  ADAPTATION    OF    ORGANIZED    EXISTENCES 

be  true,  as  it  undoubtedly  is,  that  much  of  the  activity,  in- 
genuity, and  intelligence,  which  exist  in  the  world,  had  their 
first  development  in  the  circumstances  attending  the  differ- 
ences in  question ;  and  if  the  very  wants  and  privations  of  a 
less  genial  climate  have  eventually,  not  rherely,  improved 
the  intellectual  character  of  men,  but  bound  them  together 
by  new  and  intimate  ties,  from  the  equator  to  the  vicinity  of 
the  poles,  how  can  we  avoid  the  inference,  that  such  exten- 
sive and  important  results  were  contemplated  and  provided 
for  by  the  Divine  Mind,  in  establishing  the  relations  between 
the  natural  and  moral  worlds  ? 


SECOND   WEEK— SATURDAY. 

ADAPTATION    OF     ORGANIZED     EXISTENCES    TO    SEASONS   AND 
CLIMATES. 

The  adaptation  of  plants  and  animals  to  the  changes  of 
the  seasons,  which,  taken  even  in  the  broad  and  general 
view,  is  so  clear  an  indication  of  an  intelligent  Designing 
Cause,  is  no  where  more  conspicuous  than  in  the  season  of 
winter.  Were  but  a  strong  and  continuous  blast  of  the  icy 
breath  of  winter  to  pass  over  our  forests,  fields,  and  gardens, 
in  any  of  those  months  when  vegetation  is  in  its  glory,  and 
when  animated  nature  luxuriates  in  universal  plenty,  the 
effect  would  be  most  disastrous.  All  organized  existences 
would  feel  the  fatal  shock.  Leaves,  and  fruits,  and  flowers, 
would  shrink,  wither,  and  decay ;  insects  on  the  wing  would 
fall  lifeless  to  the  earth ;  the  various  species  of  caterpillars 
would  drop  stiff  and  dying  from  the  frozen  vegetables  on 
which  they  fed ;  even  the  larger  animals  would  be  stricken 
with  the  general  blight ;  birds  and  beasts,  if  they  did  not 
instantly  perish,,would  droop  and  shiver ;  and  man  himself, 
adapted  as  his  constitution  is  to  sustain  the  rigours  of  all 
climates,  would  find  himself  invaded  by  deadly  diseases. 
Nor  would  the  evil  end  here.     Not  only  would  individuals 


TO  SEASONS  AND  CLIMATES.  61 

die,  but  whole  species  would  become  extinct.  The  seeds, 
and  eggs,  and  larvae,  which  propagate  the  various  races  of 
plants  and  insects,  would  be  unproduced.  The  progress  of 
reproduction  would  be  arrested  at  its  source  ;  and,  were  the 
untimely  blast  to  be  universal,  various  links  would  be  broken 
for  ever  in  the  chain  of  existence. 

This  consideration  brings  us,  at  once,  to  a  clear  perception 
of  the  kind  of  adaptation  to  which  I  allude.  It  is  evident 
that  some  peculiar  provision  has  been  made,  in  temperate 
climates,  for  the  preservation  of  organized  existences  during 
winter.  In  that  season  they  are  not  in  the  same  condition 
as  in  other  seasons  of  the  year.  It  is  not  merely  that  the 
change  from  heat  to  cold  has  been  gradual ;  although  it  is 
true  that  the  hurtful  effects  of  a  violent  alteration  of  temper- 
ature are  thus  avoided ;  and  this  is  something  which  ought 
not  to  be  overlooked  in  the  wise  provisions  of  the  Author 
of  Nature.  But  much  more  than  this  was  necessary ;  and, 
as  we  shall  afterwards  have  ample  means  of  observing,  has 
actually  been  effected.  It  was  requisite,  for  the  preserva- 
tion both  of  plants  and  animals,  that,  during  winter,  their 
habits  and  functions  should  be  altered,  or  even  suspended, 
and  that  peculiar  contrivances  should  be  resorted  to  for  pro- 
tecting them  from  the  rigours  of  the  season. 

But  there  is  another  consideration  which  must  not  be  over- 
looked. Not  only  are  there  peculiar  provisions  for  preserv- 
ing animal  and  vegetable  life,  in  our  temperate  climates, 
during  the  cold  of  winter,  but  the  whole  classes  of  organized 
beings  which  exist  in  any  climate,  are  adapted  to  all  the  or- 
dinary changes  of  their  peculiar  locality  :  so  that  the  fact  I 
have  mentioned,  is  only  a  single  instance  of  a  principle  of 
adaptation  which  runs  through  the  whole  system.  The 
tropical  plants,  for  example,  are  peculiarly  formed,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  living  and  flourishing  under  vertical  suns, 
long  droughts,  and  periodical  rains ;  the  vegetable  produc- 
tions of  the  polar  regions,  on  the  other  hand,  have  been  re- 
markably contrived  for  resisting  the  chilly  influences  occa- 
sioned by  the  long  absence  of  the  sun,  and  for  starting  sud- 

VOL.   IV.  6 


62  ADAPTATION    OF    ORGANIZED   EXISTENCES,   ETC. 

denly  into  life,  and  running  their  short  but  rapid  race,  during 
the  few  weeks  which  comprise  their  spring,  summer,  and 
autumn.  And  so  it  is  also  with  our  temperate  climates.  It 
is  not  in  winter,  alone,  that  an  adaptation  to  the  season  is  con- 
spicuous, but  throughout  every  month  of  the  year.  Every 
parallel  of  latitude  has  its  peculiarities  of  weather, — its  longer 
or  shorter  duration  of  mildness  and  of  rigour, — of  rain  and 
of  drought, — of  light  and  of  darkness  ;  and  to  all  these  va- 
rieties, the  plants  indigenous  to  the  soil  are  adapted. 

But,  what  is  more,  under  the  very  same  parallel,  there 
are  localities  which  differ  materially  from  the  general  aver- 
age of  the  climate,  on  account  of  the  elevation  of  mountain 
ranges,  or  other  accidental  circumstances.  Here,  again,  we 
find  very  striking  indications  of  the  provident  care  we  have 
noticed.  By  whatever  mysterious  means  the  distribution  has 
been  made,  there  we  find  productions  suited  to  the  situation. 
Some  extraordinary  instances  of  this  have  been  noticed  on 
the  Himalaya  mountains,  on  the  Andes,  on  the  Peak  of 
Teneriffe,  and,  indeed,  in  all  the  quarters  of  the  globe  where 
lofty  mountain  ranges  are  to  be  found.  Humboldt  has 
shown  that  there  is  upon  the  earth  a  geographical  distribu- 
tion of  plants,  according  to  its  various  climates,  which  he 
distinguishes  into  so  many  zones  of  vegetation,  from  the  pole 
to  the  equator.  In  the  Island  of  Teneriffe,  he  observed  that 
its  various  heights,  which,  as  in  all  mountains  are  colder  as 
the  elevation  increases,  exhibited  differences  of  plants,  cor- 
responding with  the  temperature  ;  and  he  divided  the  vari- 
ous heights  into  five  zones,  each  clearly  marked  by  their  re- 
spective vegetations.  It  has  been  a  matter  of  curious  inves- 
tigation among  philosophers,  by  what  means  the  earth  was  at 
first  supplied  with  productions  suited  to  its  respective  climates 
and  peculiarities  ;  and  it  has  been  ingeniously  attempted  to 
be  shown,  that  a  single  mountain,  of  sufficient  elevation, 
placed  in  a  favourable  situation,  and  furnished,  by  the  Crea- 
tive Power,  with  the  various  vegetable  productions  which 
its  different  altitudes  and  consequent  varieties  of  temperature 
required,  might  suffice,  in  the  course  of  ages,  for  the  dissem- 


THE    OMNIPRESENCE    OF    GOD.  63 

mation  of  these  productions  over  the  whole  face  of  the  globe, 
according  as  its  various  localities  might  be  adapted  to  receive 
them.  Such  an  inquiry,  however,  is  more  curious  than  use- 
ful. It  is  enough  for  us  to  perceive  the  designing  hand  of  a 
wise  Creator  in  the  adaptation  of  the  vegetable  creation  to 
the  very  diversified  circumstances  of  soil  and  climate,  as  it  is 
found  actually  to  exist  in  the  different  countries  and  regions 
of  the  world. 

I  shall  only  add,  at  present,  that  what  has  just  been  said 
of  the  vegetable,  is  equally  applicable  to  the  animal  king- 
dom, as  will  be  seen  when  we  enter  into  the  particulars  to 
which  these  preliminary  remarks  refer. 


THIRD   WEEK— SUNDAY. 

THE   OMNIPRESENCE   OF    GOD. 

The  doctrine  of  an  Eternal  Self-existent  Being,  involves 
in  its  very  idea,  that  He  is  every  where  present  throughout 
His  immeasurable  creation,  and  that,  if  there  be  any  region 
of  infinite  space  where  He  has  not  exerted  His  creative 
power.  He  is  there  also  ;  and  this  doctrine  receives  a  more 
distinct  and  definite  character,  from  the  discoveries  of  astron- 
omy. The  idea  of  infinity,  indeed,  is  too  vast  to  be  fully 
comprehended,  as  any  one  will  be  forced  to  confess  who 
makes  the  attempt.  We  can  conceive  an  immense  extent, 
but  it  is  an  extent  circumscribed  by  some  boundary,  however 
distant ;  and,  if  we  only  attend  to  what  passes  in  our  own 
minds,  when  we  endeavour  to  extend  our  conceptions  so  as  to 
arrive  at  the  idea  of  infinite  space,  we  shall  find  that  we  do 
this  by  figuring  to  ourselves,  first,  one  immense  exte'nt,  and 
then,  beyond  that,  another,  and  another  still,  in  a  constant 
and  indefinite  series.  This  shows  the  limited  nature  of  our 
mental  powers,  which  cannot  form  conceptions,  but  by  the 
aid  of  things  that  are  the  object  of  the  senses  ;  and  it  serves, 


64  THE    OMNIPRESENCE    OF    GOD. 

at  the  same  time,  to  exhibit  the  importance  of  astronomical 
studies,  in  assisting  the  mind  to  form  a  more  exahed  view  of 
the  Divine  attributes.  Even  though  deprived  of  the  discov- 
eries of  astronomy,  indeed,  we  could  still  speak  of  infinity  ; 
but  our  conceptions  of  that  divine  attribute  would  necessarily 
be  far  less  vivid  and  definite.  It  is  by  the  help  of  this  most 
interesting  and  astonishing  science,  that  we  raise  our  com- 
prehension from  the  contracted  bounds  of  our  own  planet, 
to  the  vast  extent  of  the  planetary  system  with  which  we 
are  connected,  and  thence  to  the  amazing  of  the  fixed 
stars,  and  thence  again  to  those  little  spaces  or  distances  in 
the  heavens  called  nebulae,  full  of  thousands,  and  tens  of 
thousands  of  worlds,  in  new  systems,  at  distances  beyond  the 
power  of  numbers  to  compute.  Thus,  step  by  step,  we  extend 
our  views  ;  and,  although  long  before  we  have  reached  the 
nearest  star,  we  find  our  mental  powers  beginning  to  flag, 
and,  in  tracing  these  discoveries  to  their  farthest  limit,  are 
forced  to  confess  that  even  imagination  is  bewildered  and 
lost,  yet  in  such  an  exercise  we  certainly  do  gain  much  to 
aid  our  conceptions  of  unbounded  space. 

The  practical  conclusion  to  which  we  come  is,  that,  if 
nature  be  so  unspeakably  and  inconceivably  immense,  the 
God  of  Nature  must  be  absolutely  infinite  ;  and  although, 
after  all,  we  can  form  no  distinct  idea  of  this  attribute,  we 
comprehend  enough  to  affect  the  mind  with  highly  exalted 
and  salutary  impressions. 

Infinity  implies  omnipresence.  The  Almighty  is  an  in- 
finitely extended  Mind.  Wherever  He  exists.  He  is  con- 
scious. His  knowledge  is,  therefore,  as  infinite  as  His 
existence.  The  universe  lies  open  to  His  inspection.  The 
earth,  with  all  its  productions,  animate  and  inanimate, — the 
rocks  and  minerals  in  its  bowels, — the  plants,  so  varied  in 
their  form  and  qualities,  from  the  microscopic  parasite  to  the 
mighty  oak  of  the  forest,  which  are  spread  profusely  over  its 
surface, — the  insects,  the  reptiles,  the  birds  and  beasts  with 
which  it  teems,  and  man,  the  lord  of  them  all,  every  one  of 
them,  individually,  is  continually  in  His  view.    He  pervades 


THE    OMNIPRESENCE    OF    GOD.  65 

every  atom  of  matter,  and  surveys  every  movement  of  the 
living  principle,  and  of  the  mental  powers,  with  which  He 
has  respectively  endowed  the  various  orders  of  organic 
beings.  Let  this  view  be  extended  to  other  worlds.  What- 
ever exists,  either  of  matter,  of  vegetable  and  animal  Hfe,  or 
of  rational  powers,  in  the  sun  and  in  the  planets,  and,  be- 
yond their  wide  orbit,  in  the  suns,  and  systems,  and  inter- 
minable groups  of  suns  and  systems  of  which  the  universe 
is  composed,  is  penetrated,  beheld,  recognised,  and  indi- 
vidually distinguished,  by  the  All-pervading  Mind. 

How  beautifully  and  feelingly  does  the  Psalmist  express 
the  sentiment  to  which  this  view  of  the  Divine  Being  gives 
rise  in  the  devout  heart: — 'Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy 
Spirit?  or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence?  If  I 
ascend  up  into  heaven,  thou  art  there ;  if  I  make  my  bed  in 
hell,  behold  thou  art  there.  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the 
morning,  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  even 
there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me,  and  thy  right  hand  shall  hold 
me.  If  I  say,  surely  the  darkness  shall  cover  me ;  even  the 
night  shall  be  light  about  me.'  This  sense  of  the  Divine 
presence,  if  deeply  and  habitually  cherished,  must  produce 
a  salutary  effect  on  the  character.  When  we  know  and 
feel  that  the  eye  of  the  holy  God  is  upon  us,  our  mind  is 
struck  with  solemn  awe ;  and  should  unhallowed  thoughts 
intrude,  we  are  sensible  that  they  are  unworthy  of  the 
presence  in  which  we  stand,  and  inconsistent  with  those 
aspirations  after  the  Divine  favour,  which  our  relation  to  him 
inspires.  Should  the  temptation  become,  notwithstanding, 
so  strong  as  to  incline  us  to  some  action  of  moral  turpitude, 
the  half-formed  design  is  checked,  by  the  conviction,  that  the 
All-seeing  eye  is  upon  us,  and  with  just  indignation  we  cast 
the  thought  away  from  us,  inwardly  exclaiming,  '  How  can 
I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin  against  God.' 

This  salutary  effect  of  a  belief  in  the  Divine  omni- 
presence, is  but  too  seldom  realised  in  actual  practice.  It  is 
held,  almost  universally,  as  a  speculative  doctrine  ;  but  how 
few  really  adopt  it  as  a  rule  of  life.     Melancholy  experience 

6* 


66  THE    OMNIPRESENCE    OF    GOD. 

assures  us,  that  the  heart  does  not  often  receive  very  deep 
impressions  from  abstract  views,  and  is  not  easily  awakened 
and  animated  by  the  speculations  of  the  closet.  It  is  our 
wisdom  to  make  use  of  the  various  means,  which  Providence 
has  bestowed  on  us,  for  counteracting  this  unhappy  propen- 
sity to  separate  speculation  from  practice ;  and  among-  these 
there  is  none  so  effectual  as  frequent  and  fervent  prayer.  An 
apostle  exhorts  us  to  '  pray  without  ceasing ;'  by  which  he 
doubtless  means,  not  that  we  should  be  constantly  on  our 
knees,  but  that  we  should  cultivate  a  continual  sense  of  the 
presence  of  our  heavenly  Father  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of 
life, — and  begin,  carry  on,  and  end  every  thing,  by  casting 
ourselves  on  His  protection  and  blessing.  By  this  prayerful 
spirit,  we  shall  learn  to  see  God  in  every  thing.  If  we  walk 
abroad,  whether  in  the  full  blaze  of  day,  or  when,  through 
the  curtain  of  night,  we  behold  the  hosts  of  heaven  shining 
in  their  brightness,  we  shall  turn  our  thoughts  to  that  Eternal 
Being  who  clothed  the  earth  in  beauty,  and  '  ever  busy, 
wheels  the  rolling  spheres.'  If  we  retire  to  the  bosom  of 
our  families,  and  in  the  kind  attentions  and  soothing  endear- 
ments of  domestic  life,  feel  our  hearts  overflowing  with  a 
tender  delight,  we  shall  not  fail  to  remember  from  whose 
hand  we  derived  the  blessing,  and  to  whose  paternal  care 
we  are  indebted  for  its  continuance.  If,  in  the  duties  of  ac- 
tive life,  we  find  our  labours  of  love  crowned  wdth  success, 
and  our  bosom  expand  with  the  glow  of  gratified  benevo- 
lence, we  shall  not  forget  that  it  is  the  hand  of  our  unseen 
Father  which  has  directed  and  blessed  our  efforts ;  and  a 
Father's  smile  which  cheers  and  elevates  our  soul.  And 
when  the  rod  of  affliction  is  upon  us, — when  the  loss  of 
worldly  possessions  oppresses  our  spirits,  or  a  more  cruel 
calamity  has  visited  us,  in  the  death  of  some  beloved  relative 
or  friend  ;  or  when  we  ourselves  are  stretched  upon  our 
death-bed,  Avith  our  weeping  family  around  us,  even  then  the 
consolations  of  religion  will  lend  their  balm ;  and  casting  our 
care  on  Him  who  careth  for  us,  and  finding  refuge  in  the 


ADAPTATION    OF   ORGANIZED   EXISTENCES,   ETC.  67  ^ 

Rock  of  Ages,  we  shall  learn  to  bless  the  hand  which  in- 
flicts the  wound. 


THIRD  WEEK— MONDAY. 

ADAPTATION    OF    ORGANIZED   EXISTENCES   TO    THE    TROPICAL 
REGIONS. 

Almost  every  country  has  its  winter,  as  well  as  the  other 
seasons  of  the  year,  differing  materially,  however,  in  differ- 
ent parts,  and  influenced  not  merely  by  its  position  in  respect 
of  latitude,  but  by  various  other  circumstances  which  affect 
the  climate  generally, — -such  as  elevation  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  the  neighbourhood  of  mountains,  of  forests,  or  of 
the  ocean,  the  prevalence  of  periodical  or  constant  winds,  and 
other  tropical  causes.  Now,  the  observation  which  applies 
to  climate,  taken  on  the  average,  applies  with  equal  truth  to 
this  uninviting  season,  namely,  that  there  is,  even  during  its 
rigours,  a  remarkable  adaptation  of  the  weather  to  the  condi- 
tion of  animal  and  vegetable  life ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
of  animal  and  vegetable  life  to  the  weather.  The  tempera- 
ture is  admirably  modified,  and  the  various  meteorological 
changes  are  wisely  regulated,  so  as  to  correspond  with  the 
other  seasons,  and  to  be  suited  to  the  kind  of  organized 
existences  which  are  to  be  found  within  the  range  of  these 
natural  operations  ;  or,  what  comes  to  the  same  thing,  these 
organized  existences  have  been  so  framed,  as  to  correspond 
in  their  nature  and  habits  with  the  qualities  of  the  weather. 

In  tropical  climates,  there  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be  any 
winter,  in  the  sense  in  which  that  word  is  understood,  with 
reference  to  the  other  divisions  of  the  earth ;  yet,  even  here, 
there  is  a  period  which  possesses  some  of  its  distinctive 
characteristics.  Under  the  equator,  indeed,  and  in  the  ad- 
joining regions,  there  may  be  said  to  be,  in  respect  of  tem- 
perature, two  winters  in  the  year, — the  one,  when  the  sun 
visits  the  tropic  of  Capricorn  ;  and  the  other,  when  he  looks 


68  ADAPTATION   OF    ORGANIZED   EXISTENCES 

down  on  our  temperate  climes  with  the  smiles  of  summer, 
from  the  tropic  of  Cancer.  Within  the  vast  zone,  bounded 
by  the  tropics,  the  climate  is  peculiar,  not  only  on  account 
of  the  extreme  heat,  but  on  account  of  the  trade-winds,  the 
monsoons,  and  periodical  droughts  by  which  it  is  distin- 
guished. These  phenomena,  which  are  very  various  in  their 
periods  and  extent,  being  much  affected  by  the  particular  cir- 
cumstances of  their  geographical  position,  wonderfully  har- 
monize during  the  various  seasons  of  the  year,  so  as  to  ren- 
der them,  in  each  region,  speaking  generally,  conducive  to 
the  salubrity  of  the  climate  ;  and  the  plants  and  animals 
Avhich  exist  in  these  regions,  are,  at  the  same  time,  with  sur- 
prising nicety,  adapted  to  their  respective  peculiarities.  This-, 
would  our  space  admit,  might  be  interestingly  exemplified 
by  a  detail  of  particulars  ;  but,  at  present,  I  must  be  content 
to  state,  in  general,  that  there  are  contrivances  and  adapta- 
tions wdiich  secure  both  plants  and  animals  from  the  hurtful 
effects  of  the  changes  of  temperature,  of  moisture,  of  violent 
and  incessant  rain,  and  of  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun, — so 
striking  and  obvious,  as  to  challenge  attention  from  the  most 
careless  observer.  In  this  fervid  climate,  the  soil  requires  no 
lengthened  rest  to  recruit  its  powers  :  nor  do  its  vegetable 
products  need  to  sleep  for  months  in  the  bud  or  in  the  root. 
Under  a  long  drought,  indeed,  they  languish  and  decay; 
and  this  may,  in  fact,  be  considered  as  their  period  of  winter, 
although  it  does  not  correspond  with  ours  as  regards  the 
season  of  the  year,  or  various  other  particulars ;  but  no 
sooner  does  the  equinoctial  monsoon  or  the  solstitial  rain 
pour  its  refreshing  streams  on  the  surface  of  the  parched 
earth,  than  all  nature  revives.  Mr.  Elphinstone,  in  his 
account  of  Cabul,  after  graphically  describing  the  appear- 
ances at  the  commencement  of  the  monsoon  in  India,  con- 
sisting of  an  incessant  pouring  of  rain,  amidst  constant  peals 
of  thunder,  and  the  most  vivid  flashes  of  lightning,  attended 
with  violent  blasts  of  wind,  proceeds  to  say  : — '  This  lasts  for 
some  days,  after  which  the  sky  clears,  and  discovers  the  face 
of  nature  changed  as  by  enchantment.     Before  the  storm, 


TO   THE   TROPICAL    REGIONS.  69 

the  fields  ware  parched  up ;  and,  except  in  the  beds  of  the 
rivers,  scarce  a  blade  of  vegetation  was  to  be  seen  ;  the  clear- 
ness of  the  sky  was  not  interrupted  by  a  single  cloud,  but 
the  atmosphere  was  loaded  with  dust,  which  was  sufficient  to 
render  distant  objects  dim  as  in  a  mist,  and  to  make  the  sun 
appear  dull  and  discoloured  till  he  attained  a  considerable 
elevation  ;  a  parching  wind  blew  like  a  blast  from  a  furnace, 
and  heated  wood,  iron,  and  every  solid  material,  even  in  the 
shade  ;  and  immediately  before  the  monsoon,  this  wind  had 
been  succeeded  by  still  more  sultry  calms.  But  when  the 
first  violence  of  the  storm  is  over,  the  whole  earth  is  covered 
with  a  sudden  but  luxuriant  verdure  ;  the  rivers  are  full  and 
tranquil ;  the  air  is  pure  and  delicious ;  the  sky  is  varied, 
and  embellished  with  clouds.' 

This  change,  from  what  may  be  termed  a  tropical  winter, 
though  arising  from,  an  excess  of  heat  instead  of  cold,  to  all 
the  beauty  and  luxuriance  of  spring,  proves,  without  any 
detail,  that  a  constitution  has  been  given  to  tropical  plants? 
adapted  to  their  situation  and  circumstances,  and  sufficiently 
marks  the  peculiar  wisdom  of  the  arrangement  as  regards 
the  vegetable  kingdom.  Let  it  be  remarked,  too,  that  the 
monsoon  takes  place  precisely  at  the  very  time  when,  but  for 
this  change,  the  heat  would  have  become  excessive  and  in- 
tolerable. It  occurs  at  the  period  when  the  sun  is  approach- 
ing his  zenith  in  that  parallel,  and  would  have  darted  his 
vertical  rays  on  the  earth  with  unmitigated  fierceness,  were 
not  a  providential  hand  to  interpose  a  veil  of  clouds,  and 
cause  them  to  pour  forth  their  refreshing  stores.  This 
change  is  not  the  less  admirable,  that  it  is  produced  by  the 
operation  of  known  and  uniform  laws  ;  and,  assuredly,  the 
wise  adjustment  and  balancing  of  the  great  mechanical 
powers  of  nature  is  no  unequivocal  proof  of  Divine  agency. 

On  turning  to  the  animal  productions  within  the  tropics, 
we  discover  similar  marks  of  beneficent  design  in  the  adapta- 
tion of  their  natures  to  the  circumstances  of  the  climate.     M. 
Lacordaire,*  as  quoted  by  Mr.  Kirby,  gives  a  striking  ac- 
*  Annales  des  Sciences  Naturelles,  20  Juin,  1830,  p.  193. 


70  ADAPTATION    OF    ORGANIZED   EXISTENCES 

count  of  the  state  of  animated  nature  in  Brazil.  '  The  great 
rains  begin  to  fall  in  that  country  about  the  middle  of  Sep- 
tember, when  all  nature  seems  to  awake  from  its  periodical 
repose ;  vegetation  resumes  a  more  lively  tint ;  the  greater 
part  of  plants  renew  their  leaves ;  and  the  insects  begin  to 
appear.  In  October  the  rains  are  rather  more  frequent,  and 
with  them  the  insects ;  but  it  is  not  till  towards  the  middle 
of  November,  when  the  rainy  season  is  definitely  set  in,  that 
all  the  families  seem  suddenly  to  develop  themselves ;  and 
this  general  impulse,  which  all  nature  seems  to  receive,  con- 
tinues augmenting  till  the  middle  of  January,  when  it  attains 
its  acme.  The  forests  present  then  an  aspect  of  movement 
and  life,  of  which  our  woods  in  Europe  can  give  no  idea. 
During  part  of  the  day  we  hear  a  vast  and  uninterrupted 
hum,  in  which  the  deafening  cry  of  the  treehopper  prevails, 
and  you  cannot  take  a  step,  or  touch  a  leaf,  without  putting 
insects  to  flight.  At  eleven  in  the  forenoon,  the  heat  has 
become  almost  insupportable,  and  all  animated  nature  be- 
comes torpid  ;  the  noise  diminishes ;  the  insects  and  other 
animals  disappear,  and  are  seen  no  more  till  the  evening. 
Then,  when  the  atmosphere  is  again  cool,  to  the  morning 
species  succeed  others,  whose  office  it  is  to  embellish  the 
nights  of  the  torrid  zone.  _  I  am  speaking  of  the  glow-worms 
and  fire-flies  ;  whilst  the  former,  issuing  by  myriads  from 
their  retreats,  overspread  the  plants  and  shrubs, — the  latter, 
crossing  each  other  in  all  directions,  weave  in  the  air,  as  it 
were,  a  luminous  web,  the  light  of  which  they  diminish  or 
augment  at  pleasure.  This  brilliant  illumination  only  ceases 
when  the  night  gives  place  to  the  day.'* 

These  observations  as  to  the  efl^ects  of  climate  within  the 
tropics,  harmonizing  as  they  do  with  what  occurs  in  other 
regions  of  the  earth,  tend  to  show  what  surprising  attention 
has  been  paid  by  the  great  Creator,  in  the  adaptation  of  or- 
ganized existences,  both  vegetable  and  animal  and  more 
especially  the  latter,  with  its  instincts  and  habits,  to  their  geo- 
graphical position,  and  what  skill  has  been  employed  in  dif- 
♦  Kirby'8  Bridgewater  Treatise,  vol.  ii.  pp.  250,  251. 


TO    TEMPERATE    AND    POLAR    CLIMATES.  71 

fusing  life  and  enjoyment  throughout  the  world.  Facts  of  a 
similar  kind  will  meet  us  every  where  in  the  course  of  our 
inquiry. 


THIRD  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

ADAPTATION    OF    ORGANIZED    EXISTENCES    TO    TEMPERATE   AND 
POLAR    CLIMATES. 

Our  attention  was  yesterday  directed  to  those  beneficent 
arrangements  by  which  organized  existences,  within  the 
tropics,  are  adapted  to  their  geographical  position.  The 
same  observation  may  be  extended  to  all  the  other  regions  of 
the  earth ;  and  the  further  the  subject  is  investigated,  the  more 
shall  we  find  reason  to  admire  and  adore  the  Divine  wisdom, 
so  variously,  and  every  where  so  beneficently  displayed. 

Among  a  vast  profusion  of  instances  which  might  be  se- 
lected, I  will  take  the  history  of  the  camel,  which  recom- 
mends itself  to  our  notice  at  present,  as  being  peculiarly  ap- 
propriate, in  our  descent  to  climates  of  a  lower  temperature, 
because  the  range  of  this  animal  is  extended  from  the  tropical 
into  the  temperate  regions  ;  and,  because,  within  that  range, 
its  conformation  and  habits  are  curiously  and  exclusively 
suited  to  a  peculiar  locality.  The  camel,  including,  of 
course,  the  dromedary,  which  is  only  a  variety  of  the  species, 
is  an  animal  distinctly  formed  by  the  Author  of  Nature  to 
subsist,  and  to  contribute  to  the  comfort  of  man,  in  the 
parched  and  sandy  wildernesses,  which,  in  the  vast  regions 
of  the  East,  stretch  from  the  tropics  far  into  the  temperate 
zone.  A  description,  abridged  from  Goldsmith,  may  sufiice 
for  our  purpose. 

The  camel  is  the  most  temperate  of  all  animals,  and  it  can 
continue  to  travel  for  several  days  without  di'inking.  In 
those  vast  deserts,  where  the  earth  is  very  dry  and  sandy ; 
where  there  are  neither  birds  nor  beasts,  neither  insects  nor 
vegetables ;   where  nothing  is  to  be  seen  but  hills  of  sand, 


72  ADAPTATION   OP   ORGANIZED    EXISTENCES 

and  heaps  of  stones ;  there  the  camel  travels,  posting  forward, 
without  requiring  either  drink  or  pasture,  and  is  often  found 
six  or  seven  days  without  any  sustenance  whatever.  Its  feet 
are  formed  for  travelling  on  sand,  and  are  utterly  unfit  for 
moist  or  marshy  places. 

In  Arabia,  and  those  countries  where  the  camel  is  turned 
to  useful  purposes,  it  is  considered  as  a  sacred  animal,  with- 
out whose  help  the  natives  could  neither  subsist,  traffic,  nor 
travel.  Its  milk  makes  a  part  of  their  nourishment ;  they 
feed  upon  its  flesh,  particularly  when  young ;  they  clothe 
themselves  with  its  hair  ;  and,  if  they  fear  an  invading  ene- 
my, their  camels  serve  them  in  flight ;  and,  in  a  single  day, 
they  are  known  to  travel  a  hundred  miles.  Thus,  by  means 
of  the  camel,  an  Arabian  finds  safety  in  his  deserts.  All  the 
armies  on  earth  might  be  lost  in  pursuit  of  a  flying  squadron 
of  this  country,  mounted  on  their  camels,  and  taking  refuge 
in  solitudes,  where  nothing  interposes  to  stop  their  flight,  or 
to  force  them  to  await  the  invader.  There  are  here  and 
there,  in  the  dreary  wastes  inhabited  by  the  Arabian,  found 
spots  of  verdure  which,  though  remote  from  each  other,  are, 
in  a  manner,  approximated  by  the  labour  and  industry  of  the 
camel.  Thus  the  Arab  lives  independent  and  tranquil 
amidst  his  solitudes  ;  and,  instead  of  considering  the  vast 
wilds  spread  around  him  as  a  restraint  upon  his  happiness, 
he  is,  by  experience,  taught  to  regard  them  as  the  ramparts 
of  his  freedom.  Who  does  not  admire  in  this  remarkable 
instance,  the  beneficent  intentions  of  Providence,  in  the  struc- 
ture and  habits  of  an  animal  so  exclusively  adapted  to  re- 
gions of  heat,  sterility,  and  drought  ? 

In  the  temperate  regions,  similar  adaptations  to  the  season 
of  scarcity  are  familiar  to  the  student  of  nature  ;  but,  as  it  is 
in  this  zone  of  moderate  climate  that  we  dwell,  and  from  it, 
therefore,  that  our  illustrations  will,  in  the  following  pages, 
be  chiefly  taken,  I  shall  pass  to  its  extreme  verge,  towards 
the  polar  circles,  where  the  countries,  although  they  still  bear 
the  geographical  title  of  temperate,  have  ceased  in  reality  to 
deserve  it,  and  are  rapidly  tending  to  an  extreme,  in  which 


TO    TEMPERATE    AND    POLAR   CLIMATES.  73 

organized  beings  are  no  longer  to  be  found.  The  Laplander, 
the  Greeniander,  the  inhabitants  of  Nova  Zembla  and  Labra- 
dor, although,  in  winter,  they  suffer  many  privations,  greater 
than  are  experienced  in  our  more  favoured  climate,  are  yet 
furnished  with  many  alleviations,  which  prove  that  their 
comfort  and  enjoyments  have  not  been  forgotten  by  Him 
who  appointed  the  bounds  of  their  habitation. 

Some  inhabitants  of  these  severe  regions  have  received 
from  a  bountiful  Providence  the  gift  of  the  rein-deer,  which 
is  not  less  adapted  to  their  wants  than  the  camel  is  to  those 
of  the  Arab.  It  furnishes  them  with  the  means  of  rapid  and 
easy  conveyance  from  place  to  place  ;  while  its  skin  supplies 
them  with  clothing  for  their  bodies,  and  covering  for  their 
tents,  its  flesh  is  their  necessary  food,  and  its  milk  their 
delicious  drink.  Their  long  winter  night,  for  it  is  one  unin- 
terrupted night  during  several  months,  is  cheered  by  a  bright 
twilight,  and  the  brilliant  and  busy  coruscations  of  that  won- 
derful meteor,  the  aurora  borealis  ;  and,  when  they  retire  to 
their  humble  dwellings,  they  find  at  once  light  and  heat  in 
the  blaze  of  the  oil  abundantly  extracted  from  the  fish  which 
their  industry  has  drawn  from  the  neighbouring  seas. 

In  Greenland,  and'  the  countries  bordering  on  Baffin's 
Bay,  where  the  rein-deer  is  but  seldom,  if  at  all,  domesticated, 
the  inhabitants  have  other  means  of  supplying,  though  less 
comfortably,  Ihe  necessaries  of  life  which  this  useful  animal 
provides  to  the  northern  inhabitants  of  Europe.  The  dog  is 
their  beast  of  draught,  their  sagacious  guard,  their  servant 
and  their  friend.  They  build  their  winter  huts  of  snoio^ 
within  which  they  light  their  fires,  without  danger  of  its 
melting,  so  long  as  the  intensity  of  the  cold  prevails ;  and, 
within  these  apparently  miserable  habitations,  they  experience 
more  enjoynaent  than  the  natives  of  genial  climes  can  easily 
conceive  possible.  The  frost  preserves  from  corruption  the 
animal  food  they  have  stored  ;  and,  so  long  as  their  provis- 
ions  remain,  they  seem  to  have  no  great  care  for  the  future. 
Having  few  wants,  and  little  forethought,  they  spend  from 
day  to  day  a  contented  though  a  degraded  life  ;  and  the  good- 

VOL.  IV.  7 


74  BALANCE   PRESERVED   IN   THE 

ness  of  the  great  Creator  towards  them,  appears  in  this,  that 
if  their  circumstances  preclude  them  from  the  enjoyment  of 
many  luxuries,  or  even  conveniences,  they  are  happily  insen- 
sible of  the  privation ;  and,  if  they  are  destitute  of  high  in- 
tellectual pleasures,  they  are  at  least  not  subjected  to  the 
miseries  arising  from  that  acute  sensibility,  with  which  the 
cultivation  of  the  mental  powers  is  frequently  attended. 

Were  we  to  inquire  into  the  condition  and  habits  of  the 
lower  animals  which  inhabit  these  frozen  regions,  we  should 
be  struck  with  similar  wise  adaptations.  Of  the  thick  and 
shaggy  fur  which  covers  their  bodies,  so  admirably  adapted 
both  to  preserve  the  animal  heat,  and  exclude  the  external  cold, 
increasing  in  warmth  with  the  increasing  rigour  of  the  season  ; 
of  the  instinct  which  induces  some  to  migrate  to  more  genial 
regions,  and  others  to  retire  to  caves  and  burrows,  where  they 
spend  the  long  and  dreary  winter  months  in  a  state  of  insen- 
sibility, or  of  partial  lethargy;  and  of  other  matters  con- 
nected with  the  season  of  winter  in  that  inhospitable  climate, 
which  afford,  even  in  apparently  neglected  corners  of  the 
world,  unequivocal  proofs  of  beneficent  design,  we  shall  after- 
wards have  occasion  to  speak.  Meanwhile,  this  slight  sketch 
seems  sufficient  to  show,  that,  in  every  climate,  even  the 
dreariest  season  of  the  year  has  its  uses,  its  adaptations,  and 
its  enjoyments. 


THIRD  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

THE  BALANCE  PRESERVED  IN  THE  ANIMAL  AKD  VEGETABLE 
CREATION. 

Every  naturalist  must  have  observed,  that  there  is  a  ten- 
dency in  the  reproductive  powers  bestowed  by  the  Creator, 
to  overstock  the  world  ;  so  that,  if  any  one  species  of  animals 
were  permitted  to  produce  its  kind  without  check,  the  whole 
earth  would,  in  process  of  time,  be  entirely  over-run  by  that 
species  alone,  to  such  an  extent,  that  by-and-by,  there  would 


ANIMAL    AND   VEGETABLE    CREATION.  75 

not  be  room  for  the  vegetable  to  spread,  or  the  animal  to 
move.  Among  living  creatures,  a  remarkable  example  of 
this  power  may  be  taken  from  the  rabbit.  This  animal 
breeds  seven  times  in  a  year,  and  produces  from  four  to  eight 
young  at  a  time.  On  the  supposition,  therefore,  that  this 
happens  regularly,  at  the  end  of  four  years,  a  couple  of  rab- 
bits would  have  peopled  the  land  with  a  progeny  of  nearly  a 
million  and  a  half  The  common  grass  is  an  example  of  a 
similar  kind  among  vegetables,  a  single  plant  of  which  would, 
in  a  very  few  years,  under  favourable  circumstances,  clothe  a 
whole  island  such  as  ours.  These  are  extreme  cases ;  but  if 
any  person  would  take  the  trouble  of  estimating  the  produc- 
tive powers  of  any  one  kind  of  plant  or  animal,  even  the 
least  remarkable  for  fecundity,  he  would  soon  satisfy  himself 
that  the  fact  is  not  overstated. 

This  excessive  power  of  reproduction,  as  in  one  sense  it 
may  be  called,  seems  to  be  a  necessary  part  of  the  wise 
economy  of  Nature;  because  it  always  enables  organized 
existences  to  propagate  their  species,  up  to  the  extent  in 
which  provision  is  made  for  their  subsistence ;  but  then  it 
would  have  occasioned  the  most  injurious  consequences,  were 
not  checks  provided,  by  which  each  kind  might  be  kept 
within  its  proper  bounds.  These  checks  are  numerous  and 
effectual.  The  most  remarkable  of  them,  among  the  living 
tribes,  is  the  existence  of  predacious  animals.  One  creature 
preys  upon  another,  and  thus  provision  is  made,  by  a  re- 
markable contrivance,  which,  at  first  sight,  appears  cruel,  for 
the  existence  of  more  numerous  species,  and  for  the  more 
easy  death  of  individuals,  which  would  otherwise  so  press 
upon  the  means  of  subsistence,  as  to  drag  out  a  lingering  and 
miserable  life,  till  they  perished  by  famine ;  while  another 
instance  of  providential  care  in  this  provision  is,  that  dead 
bodies  are  consumed  and  removed,  which  would  otherwise 
infest  the  air  with  noisome  and  pestilential  effluvia,  in  the 
process  of  decomposition. 

But  what  has  led  me  at  present  to  advert  to  this  subject,  is 
the  effect  which  winter  also  produces  in  checking  an  over- 


76  BALANCE    PRESERVED   IN   THE 

production  of  organized  beings.  To  what  extent  its  severity^ 
and  the  scanty  subsistence  it  affords,  are  destructive  of  animal 
and  vegetable  life,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  estimate  ;  but  that  it 
is  considerable,  cannot  be  denied.  Notwithstanding  the 
various  and  astonishing  means  made  use  of  by  a  wise  Crea- 
tor, for  the  presiervation  of  organized  beings  during  the  in- 
clemency of  winter,  it  is  certainly  true  that  this  season  does 
not  pass  without  a  great  expense  of  life.  Violent  storms, 
severe  frosts,  sudden  inundations,  deep  snows,  scarcity  of  food, 
the  tracks  of  animals  in  the  new-fallen  snow,  which  guide 
the  hunter  to  their  lair, — all  these  are  so  many  means  of 
destruction  to  numerous  individuals  of  various  tribes  of  ani- 
mals, and  some  of  them  means  of  destruction  to  different 
kinds  of  vegetables  also. 

Now,  that  the  checks  we  have  mentioned,  combined  with 
others,  are  most  wisely  adapted  for  promoting  the  benevolent 
intentions  of  Providence,  in  preserving  a  due  balance  in 
Nature,  may  be  inferred  from  various  considerations.  Of 
these  I  shall  mention  one,  which  is  sufficiently  striking. 
Man  has  frequently  attempted,  for  his  own  purposes,  to  inter- 
fere with  the  balance  which  Providence  has  thus  estab- 
lished, often  wisely  and  successfully,  the  higher  species  being 
destined  to  supplant  the  lower ;  but  when  injudiciously,  not 
with  impunity.  The  following  examples  of  the  latter,  which 
I  extract  from  a  note  in  Mr.  Sharon  Turner's  History  of  the 
Creation,  may  suffice  as  an  illustration.  '  Farmers  destroy 
moles,  because  the  hillocks  they  make  break  the  level  sur- 
face ;  but  they  have  found  worms  increase  so  much,  when 
the  moles  were  gone,  as  to  wish  they  had  not  molested  them. 
Moles  live  on  worms,  insects,  snails,  frogs,  and  larvce.  The 
farmers  on  a  nobleman's  estate  in  France,  found  the  moles' 
disturbances  of  the  earth  such  a  good  husbandry  to  it,  as  to 
solicit  their  landlords  not  to  have  them  killed. — {Bull.  Un. 
1829,  p.  334.)  So  toads  are  found  to  keep  down  the  ants. 
Mice  have  increased  in  barns  where  owls  have  been  shot. 
The  blue  jay  was  destroyed  in  America,  for  eating  the  peas ; 
but  the  pea-grub,  which  it  fed  on,  became  more  destructive 


ANIMAL   AND    VEGETABLE    CREATION.  77 

afterwards.  A  gentleman  shot  a  magpie,  to  save  his  cher- 
ries, but  found  its  craw  as  full  as  it  could  be  crammed  with 
the  large  blue-bottle  flies,  that  lay  their  eggs  in  meat.  The 
fox  renders  considerable  service  to  man,  by  the  quantity  of 
rats,  field-mice,  frogs,  toads,  lizards,  and  snakes,  which  he 
destroys.'* 

These  are  instances  of  the  kind  of  balance  which  is  pre- 
served in  the  animal  world,  by  means  of  predacious  animals, 
and  prove  that,  by  removing  one  cause  of  annoyance,  we  may 
sometimes  only  give,  room  to  another  of  a  more  grievous 
kind ;  and  that  we  ought,  therefore,  to  be  cautious  how  we 
do  violence  to  Nature.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  however, 
that  the  judicious  interference  of  man  was  taken  into  account, 
in  the  establishment  of  the  order  of  Nature ;  and  that  his 
employing  his  rational  powers  for  this  purpose,  is  one  of  the 
exercises  by  which  Providence  intended  to  call  forth  his  in- 
genuity, and  reward  his  industry.  It  is  not  merely  as  a 
curse,  that,  in  the  field  of  the  sluggard,  '  thistles  grow  instead 
of  wheat,  and  cockle  instead  of  barley  ;' — it  is  also  as  a  warn- 
ing against  sloth,  and  as  a  stimulus  to  exertion.  So  it  is  with 
regard  to  industrious,  intelligent,  and  virtuous  habits  of  every 
kind;  and,  with  reference  to  the  agriculturist,  while  the 
neglect  of  such  habits  is  punished  by  an  accumulation  of 
noxious  weeds  and  vermin,  and  a  deficiency  of  useful  pro- 
duce, the  very  reverse  is  the  case  when  these  habits  are  culti- 
vated ; — and,  mutatis  mutandis,  the  same  observation  may  be 
made  in  relation  to  every  other  profession. 

Of  the  salutary  effect  of  a  judicious  use  of  the  power 
which  Providence  has  entrusted  us  with,  of  extirpating  nox- 
ious animals,  we  have  a  remarkable  instance  in  the  total  ex 
tinction  of  the  wolf  from  Great  Britain,  chiefly  through  the 
energetic  measures  adopted  by  two  of  our  kings,  Edgar  I. 
and  Edward  I.  The  importance  which  we  ought  to  attach 
to  the  removal  of  this  nuisance,  will  be  better  estimated  on 
reading  the  official  account  which  was  given  in  the  public 
papers,  of  the  devastations  committed  by  wolves,  in  the  year 
*  Turner,  note,  p.  350,  quoting  from  Hewitt's  Brit.  Preserv. 
7* 


78  BALANCE  PRESERVED  IN  THE 

1823 J  in  the  province  of  Livonia  alone.  They  are  stated  to 
have  devoured  1841  horses,  1243  foals,  1807  horned  cattle, 
733  calves,  15,182  sheep,  726  lambs,  2545  goats,  183  kids, 
4190  swine,  312  sucking  pigs,  703  dogs,  673  geese. 

This  destruction  is  remarkable,  and  it  is  only  a  single 
example  of  the  immense  extent  of  the  power  by  which  the 
excess  of  the  reproductive  principle  is  restrained,  in  all  the 
various  races  of  living  beings,  from  the  microscopic  insect  to 
the  huge  elephant.  The  proof  thus  afforded  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  great  Creator,  is  conspicuous  and  pre-eminent ;  the 
balance  of  nature  is  preserved ;  one  species,  taken  on  the 
average,  does  not  unduly  encroach  upon  another  ;  a  greater 
quantity  of  living  beings  have  the  means  of  being  nourished, 
and  are  therefore  produced  ;  and  the  good  of  the  whole  is 
most  strikingly  consulted. 

One  condition,  which  the  due  balance  of  the  reproductive 
powers  involves,  is,  that  the  most  useful  species  shall  be  able, 
not  only  to  maintain  their  ground,  but  to  preponderate  over 
all  the  rest.  This  is  instanced  in  the  case  of  vegetables,  in 
the  prolific  power  already  noticed,  as  bestowed  upon  the  com- 
mon grasses  on  which  so  many  animals,  and  especially  those 
destined  for  the  use  of  man,  are  formed  to  feed.  It  is  in  vir- 
tue of  this  quality,  with  which  man,  for  his  own  purposes, 
finds  it  necessary  frequently  to  war,  that  the  soft  green  car- 
pet is  so  universally  spread  over  hill  and  valley,  on  which 
our  herds  and  flocks  graze  so  luxuriously  by  day,  and  repose 
so  comfortably  by  night.  But  then,  it  was  the  wise  intention 
of  Providence,  that  this  mastery,  gained  by  the  prolific  power, 
should  not  be  of  such  extent  as  to  annihilate  any  of  the  spe- 
cies of  plants  formed  by  His  creative  wisdom.  There  are, 
therefore,  most  surprising  and  ingenious  contrivances,  by 
which  this  power  is  so  far  counteracted  as  to  serve  the  end  in 
view.  These  will  fall  more  properly  to  be  considered  in 
another  season,  and  it  is  enough  at  present  merely  to  advert 
to  them. 

In  saying,  however,  that  the  most  useful  vegetable  produc- 
tions are  usually  the  most  prolific,  I  must  not  forget  to  make 


ANIMAL   AND   VEGETABLE   CREATION.  79 

an  exception,  which  embraces  a  great  variety  of  those  plants 
that  are  cultivated  by  the  farmer  and  the  gardener,  for  the 
use  of  man.  All  the  cereal,  leguminous,  potato,  and  cab- 
bage tribes  are  included  in  this  exception,  and  seem  to  be 
intended,  along  with  many  other  means  in  the  economy  of 
Providence,  to  verify  the  sentence  so  early  pronounced  on 
our  fallen  race,  that  in  the  sweat  of  their  brow  they  must  eat 
bread.  It  is,  indeed,  in  this  view  a  most  remarkable  pro- 
vision, that  while  the  means  of  subsistence  are  so  amply  pro- 
vided for  the  lower  animals,  man  is  left  to  procure  his  food 
by  the  exercise  of  his  own  mental  and  bodily  powers,  in  the 
labours  of  cuhivation ;  and,  for  this  purpose,  finds  it  neces- 
sary to  counteract  the  natural  tendencies  of  vegetation,  as 
well  as  to  control  the  habits,  and  subdue  the  propensities  of 
the  brute  creation. 

Among  animals,  the  balance  which  we  have  been  consid- 
ering is  kept  up  in  a  way  different  from  that  which  takes 
place  in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  though  in  some  respects  anal- 
ogous to  it.  Here,  too,  the  powers  of  reproduction  are  with 
obvious  design  unequally  distributed,  being  most  copiously 
bestowed  on  those  species  which  are  either  most  useful  to 
man,  or  most  harmless  in  their  own  nature,  or  least  capable 
of  defending  themselves.  Were  not  this  the  case,  animals 
of  prey,  whose  species  are  numerous,  and  are  to  be  found  in 
all  the  classes  of  animated  nature,  from  the  lowest  to  the 
highest,  would  soon  destroy  the  more  helpless  kinds,  and  re- 
duce the  various  orders  of  beings  to  a  few  of  nearly  equal 
strength  and  prowess  in  the  various  genera.  Among  beasts, 
the  lion  and  tiger,  for  example,  would  desolate  the  tropical 
regions  ;  the  Avolf  would  reign  paramount  in  the  temperate 
zone ;  and  the  arctic  bear  would  over-run  the  regions  border- 
ing on  the  poles,  till  nothing  would  be  left  for  them  to  de- 
vour but  creatures  of  their  own  species.  Among  birds,  the 
eagle,  the  vulture,  and  the  condor,  would  each  assert  the  ter- 
rible powers  of  its  nature,  till  the  other  feathered  tribes,  in 
their  respective  localities,  had  been  exterminated  ;  and  as  to 


80  Ar^IMAL    AND    VEGETABLE    CREATION. 

fishes,  the  enormous  whale,*  and  the  rapacious  shark,  each  of 
which  devour  the  inferior  tribes  by  hundreds  at  a  mouthful, 
would  quickly  divide  the  desolated  ocean  between  them. 

The  very  fact,  therefore,  that,  notwithstanding  the  existence 
of  such  formidable  enemies,  the  other  tribes  of  animated 
beings  not  only  survive  but  abound,  is  a  proof  that  the  Au- 
thor of  Nature  has  provided  sufficient  checks  to  their  power 
and  rapacity.  Of  quadrupeds  alone,  from  800  to  1000  spe- 
cies are  known  to  exist ;  and,  as  we  descend  in  the  scale  to 
the  lower  genera,  their  species  proportionally  increase,  till 
among  the  insect  and  microscopic  tribes,  they  become  almost 
innumerable.  If  this  be  the  case  with  regard  to  species,  how 
would  the  mind  be  overwhelmed  with  the  immensity  of  the 
subject,  Avere  it  to  attempt  to  estimate  the  number  of  individ- 
ual existences  in  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms.  Let 
us  recognize  and  admire  the  designing  mind  which  has  with 
such  wonderful  skill  adjusted  the  balance  of  nature,  and 
fitted  it  to  the  condflion  of  man  in  his  fallen  state.  It  is  im- 
possible not  to  be  struck  with  the  analogy  which  runs 
through  all  the  departments  of  organized  existence,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest,  in  this  as  well  as  in  other  instances. 
We  see  every  where  a  superabundant  power  of  reproduction 
counteracted  and  balanced  by  what  may  be  justly  called  an- 
tagonist powers.  Among  these  opposing  forces  we  find 
voracity  and  famine  every  where,  excessive  heat  and  periodi- 
cal storms  in  tropical  countries,  excessive  cold  during  the 
winter  of  the  temperate  and  frigid  regions,  each  in  its  own 
manner  and  its  own  place,  doing  the  necessary  work  of 
destruction. 

♦  The  Greenland  whale  is  supposed  to  live  only  on  medusae  or  shrimps, 
but  the  catchalot,  and  its  varieties,  are  exceedingly  voracious. 


ALTERNATION    OF    DAY   AND   NIGHT.  81 

THIRD  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

ALTERNATION    OF   DAY   AND   NIGHT. 

With  us  the  sun  now  remains  little  more  than  eight  hours 
above  the  horizon ;  and,  even  during  that  short  period,  the 
comparative  intensity  of  his  light  and  heat  is  much  de- 
creased. He  is  daily  taking  a  less  extensive  circuit  in  the 
heavens  ;  and  in  another  month  the  length  of  the  day  will 
be  diminished  by  more  than  another  hour.  Were  the  in- 
fluence of  the  sun  and  the  length  of  the  day  to  continue  in 
this  state,  the  Avhole  organized  world,  in  the  climate  which 
we  inhabit,  would  quickly  be  destroyed.  But  the  year  will 
soon  recommence  its  annual  round ;  and  nature  is  even  now 
preparing  for  its  coming  labours. 

The  repose  of  plants,  and  even  of  many  animals,  in  this 
dreary  season,  reminds  us  of  the  salutary  provision,  of  a 
similar  description,  which  is  made  for  the  diurnal  recruiting 
of  exhausted  strength  by  the  alternation  of  night  with  day. 
That  this  arrangement  is  adapted  to  the  constitution  of  ani- 
mal and  vegetable  existences,  will  be  readily  admitted  ;  and, 
on  examining  particulars,  we  shall  be  confirmed  in  our 
general  conclusion.  It  is  not  merely  true  that  nature  re- 
quires a  frequently  recurring  period  of  rest,  but  that  the 
actual  period  of  twenty-four  hours,  divided  between  activity 
and  repose,  is  the  best  suited  for  this  end.  If  this  be  so,  it 
implies  a  Designing  Cause ;  for  such  a  period  is  arbitrary ; 
that  is  to  say,  no  reason  can  be  assigned,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  either  why  the  earth  should  complete  her  daily 
revolution  in  twenty-four  hours,  or  why  animals  and  vegeta- 
bles should  require  a  season  of  rest  in  that  precise  interval. 
As  to  the  former,  no  mechanical  or  physical  necessity  re- 
quires that  our  earth  should  complete  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  revolutions  in  a  year.  It  might,  apparently,  move 
either  faster  or  slower,  without  the  slightest. inconvenience  to 
the  system  with  which  it  is  connected.     Jupiter  and  Saturn' 


82  y^LTEP.MATlON    OF    DAY    AND    NIGHT. 

revolve  on  their  axis  each  in  ten  hours,  which,  considering 
their  bulk,  must  carry  their  equators  round  with  a  velocity 
immensely  greater  than  that  of  the  earth,  while  Mercury 
which  is  so  much  nearer  the  sun,  and  so  much  smaller,  has 
its  day  and  night  nearly  of  the  same  length  as  our  own. 

Now,  if  we  look  at  the  vegetable  world,  we  shall  find,  as 
already  observed,  a  remarkable  adaptation  of  this  arbitrary 
period  of  twenty-four  hours  to  the  constitution  of  its  various 
productions.     In  some  plants,  indeed,  this  is  not  so  obvious  ; 
but  there  are  others  which  clearly  show  that  they  are  en- 
dowed with  a  periodical  character,  corresponding  with  the 
average  length  of  our  day.     Linnaeus  classified  a  number  of 
plants  according  to  their  time  of  opening  and  shutting,  with 
reference  to  the  hour  of  the  day,  and  found  that  there  are 
some  which  change  their  hour  of  opening  and  shutting  as 
the  day  becomes  longer  and  shorter,  while  there  are  others 
which  do  not  seem  to  be  aflfected  by  the  actual  state  of  the 
light  and  heat,  but  have  a  daily  period  of  their  own,  inde- 
pendent of   these   influences,   expanding   their   leaves,  and 
closing  them,  at  a  particular  hour,  whatever  be  the  state  of 
the  weather,  or  the  length  of  the  day.     Both  of  these  in- 
stances prove  an  adaptation  to  the  diurnal  revolution  of  the 
earth,  which  could  not  be  the  effect  of  chance,  and  must, 
therefore,  have  been  the  work  of  an  Intelligent  Cause. 

This  adjustment  is  still  more  remarkable  in  the  animal 
world.  A  period  of  sleep  is  necessary  for  the  health  and 
vigour  of  living  beings;  and  the  alternation  of  day  and 
night,  which  actually  takes  place,  seems,  from  various  con- 
siderations, to  be  that  which  is  best  fitted  for  them  ;  or,  at  all 
events,  any  very  great  deviation  from  the  arrangement  ac- 
tually estabhshed,  would  be  prejudicial.  When  a  workman 
retires  from  his  twelve  hours'  labour,  he  is  sufficiently  in- 
clined to  take  rest ;  and,  although  it  is  possible  for  him  to 
encroach  on  the  night,  without  much  inconvenience,  and  to 
extend  his  exertions,  if  not  immoderate,  to  fifteen  or  sixteen 
hours,  a  longer  j)eriod,  without  an  interval  of  repose,  would 
incur  the  risk  of  undermining  the  constitution.     It  is  cer- 


ALTERNATION    OF   DAY   AND    NIGHT.  bd 

tain,  at  least,  that  a  considerable  proportion  of  time,  spent  in 
sleep  during  the  four  and  twenty  hours,  is  of  importance  to 
the  health  both  of  body  and  mind  ;  and  that,  if  our  day  were 
extended,  for  example,  to  the  length  of  two,  the  human 
powers  would  droop  under  the  prolonged  period  which 
would  thus  occur  between  the  intervals  of  rest. 

To  the  lower  animals,  also,  the  alternation  of  day  and 
night,  as  it  actually  exists,  is  wisely  adapted.  To  some 
of  these,  the  day  is  the  season  of  collecting  their  food ;  to 
others,  the  night ;  but,  whatever  be  the  instincts  which  guide 
them  in  this  respect,  we  cannot  but  perceive  that  the  adjust- 
ment between  their  constitution  and  habits,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  period  of  light  and  darkness  on  the  other,  is  such  as 
to  show  that  the  one  bears  reference  to  the  other,  and  to  indi- 
cate benevolent  contrivance. 

It  is  no  valid  objection  to  this  view,  that  the  relative  length 
of  the  days  and  nights  varies  very  considerably  in  our  cli- 
mate, and  still  more  in  higher  latitudes  ;  because,  where  this 
iS  the  case,  we  find  adaptations  and  adjustments  of  a  different 
icind,  which,  in  some  degree,  compensate  for  these  variations  ; 
nnd  because,  except  in  regions  approaching  very  near  the 
^oles,  the  revolution  of  day  and  night  is  uniformly  comprised 
•n  twenty-four  hours  ;  and  the  only  difference  consists  in  a 
\onger  or  shorter  time  during  which  the  curtains  of  night  are 
drawn, — an  inconvenience  which  the  ingenuity  of  man  re- 
moves by  artificial  means,  and  to  which  the  habits  and  wants 
of  the  lower  animals,  and  of  plants,  are  wonderfully  accom- 
modated. 

On  the  whole,  we  have  here  another  proof  of  an  Intelligent 
Creator,  who  has  suited  the  organized  beings  he  has  called 
into  existence,  to  the  circumstances  of  the  material  world,  in 
which  he  has  been  pleased  to  place  them.  The  observations 
oi  Mr.  Whewell  on  this  subject,  to  whose  judicious  statements 
we  have  so  frequently  had  occasion  to  refer,  are  entirely  to 
the  purpose.  '  The  hours  of  food  and  repose,'  says  he, '  are 
capable  of  such  wide  modifications,  in  animals,  and,  above 
dl,  in  man,  by  the  influence  of  external  stimulants  and  inter- 


84  SLEEP. 

nal  emotions,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  distinguish  what  portion 
of  the  tendency  to  such  ahernations  depends  on  original  con- 
stitution. Yet  no  one  can  doubt  that  the  inclination  of  food 
and  sleep  is  periodical,  or  can  maintain,  with  any  plausibility, 
that  the  period  may  be  lengthened  or  shortened  without 
limit.  We  may  be  tolerably  certain  that  a  constantly  recur- 
ring period  of  forty-eight  hours,  would  be  too  long  for  one 
day  of  employment,  and  one  period  ot  sleep,  with  our  present 
faculties  ;  and  all,  whose  bodies  and  minds  are  tolerably  ac- 
tive, will  probably  agree,  that,  independently  of  habit,  a  per- 
petual alternation  of  eight  hours  up,  and  four  in  bed,  would 
employ  the  human  powers  less  advantageously  and  agree- 
ably, than  an  ahernation  of  sixteen  and  eight.  A  creature 
which  could  employ  the  full  energies  of  his  body  and  mind 
uninterruptedly  for  nine  months,  and  then  take  a  single  sleep 
of  three  months,  would  not  be  a  man.' 

'  This  view,'  he  afterwards  adds, '  agrees  with  the  opinion 
of  some  of  the  most  eminent  physiologists.  Thus  Cabanis 
notices  the  periodical  and  isochronous  character  of  the  desire 
to  sleep,  as  well  as  of  other  appetites.  He  states  also,  that 
sleep  is  more  easy  and  more  salutary,  in  proportion  as  we  go 
to  rest,  and  rise  every  day  at  the  same  hour,  and  observes, 
that  this  periodicity  seems  to  have  a  reference  to  the  motions 
of  the  solar  system.' 

All  this  leads  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  correspondence 
thus  obvious  between  the  laws  of  the  material  world,  and  the 
constitution  of,  man,  and  other  animals,  is  not  fortuitous,  but 
is  the  appointment  of  a  Wise  Contriver,  and  manifests  a 
designing  First  Cause. 


THIRD  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

SLEEP. 

The  remarkable  manner  in  which  the  constitution  of  plants 
and  animals  is  adapted  to  the  length  of  the  day,  was  yester- 


SLEEP.  85 

day  commented  on  ;  and  one  of  the  most  striking  of  these 
adaptations  is  the  provision  by  which  man,  and  many  of  the 
lower  animals,  drop  into  a  state  of  inactivity  and  sweet  oblivion 
during  the  night. 

The  presence  of  light  is  necessary  to  enable  creatures, 
constituted  as  we  are,  to  prosecute  useful  labours ;  but  con- 
stant toil  wears  out  the  frame,  and  a  period  of  rest  is  neces- 
sary. There  is,  therefore,  an  arrangement  of  our  ever-provi- 
dent Creator,  by  which  light  shall  be,  for  a  time,  withdrawn 
from  us,  that  we  may  be  compelled,  by  a  natural  necessity, 
to  refrain,  at  regulated  and  short  intervals,  from  the  prosecu- 
tion of  labours  in  which  we  might  otherwise  be  too  eagerly 
engaged.  This  is  the  point  of  view  in  which  the  subject 
has  been  already  considered.  Let  us  now  attend  to  the  sub- 
ject in  another  light.  Looking  at  the  fact,  that  the  earth  is 
made  to  revolve  on  its  axis  once  every  twenty-four  hours,  and 
that  thus  its  inhabitants  are  deprived  of  its  light,  and  other 
genial  influences,  for  nearly  the  half  of  that  time,  on  an  aver- 
age, each  day,  What  is  the  contrivance  by  which  this  natural 
occurrence  is  rendered  agreeable  and  salutary  ?  The  reply 
is,  that  a  provision  is  made  by  which  the  active  powers  both 
of  body  and  mind  are  suspended,  and  sleep  is  induced. 

And  what  is  sleep  ?  There  is  something  very  mysterious 
in  this  state,  considered  as  a  physiological  phenomenon  ;  but 
this  inquiry  does  not  fall  under  our  present  plan  ;  and,  if  it 
did,  we  should  probably  find  it  difficult  to  come  to  any  satis- 
factory conclusion  as  to  its  efficient  cause,  or  the  nature  of  the 
physical  change  in  the  nervous  system,  by  which  it  is  pro- 
duced. We  know  it  is  a  fact  in  the  constitution  of  living 
beings  ;  and  this  is  all  that  it  seems  necessary,  at  present,  to 
say  on  the  subject.  To  define  sleep  according  to  its  actual 
appearances,  is  sufficiently  easy.  In  attending  to  our  own 
experience,  in  regard  to  its  approach  and  actual  occurrence, 
we  discover  that  the  will  seems  gradually  to  become  en- 
feebled in  its  power  over  both  the  bodily  and  mental  opera- 
tions ;  that  the  body  becomes  as  it  were  benumbed,  and 
ceases  to  receive  impressions  of  external  objects  ;  and  that  the 

VOL.  IV.  8 


86  SLEEP. 

faculty  of  thought  seems  to  wander  without  control.  In  the 
functions  which  serve  for  the  support  of  life,  on  the  contrary, 
there  is  no  material  interruption.  All  of  them  remain  unsus- 
pended,  and  some  of  them  are  maintained  in  full  vigour  and 
activity.  The  natural  actions  of  respiration,  circulation,  and 
digestion,  are  little  affected.  The  powers,  which  are  merely 
mechanical  or  chemical,  seem  to  proceed  in  the  usual  man- 
ner ;  and,  whatever  internal  stimuli  are  necessary  for  keep- 
ing them  in  action,  retain  their  sensibility.*  It  is  otherwise 
with  the  different  senses.  These  fall  into  a  state  of  obtuse- 
ness  and  relaxation,  from  which  they  are  not  easily  roused, 
though  the  possibility  of  affecting  them,  even  without  put- 
ting an  end  to  the  state  of  sleep,  is  a  matter  of  daily  experi- 
ence ;  and,  indeed,  the  fact  that  a  sleeper  can  be  awaked  at 
all,  through  the  medium  of  his  sense  of  hearing,  or  of  touch, 
or  of  sight,  or  even  of  taste  or  smell,  is  a  sufficient  proof  that 
these  faculties  are  not  completely  suspended.  Neither  is 
there  a  suspension  of  the  mental  powers.  Our  thoughts 
succeed  each  other  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  and  the 
imagination  appears  often  to  be  peculiarly  awake  and  bril- 
liant. It  is  the  power  of  volition  alone,  so  far  as  the  mind  is 
concerned,  which  has  ceased  to  be  exerted.  This  is  usually 
attended  with  a  relaxation  of  the  voluntary  muscles,  which 
occasions  a  total  want  of  power  in  all  the  parts  of  the  body 
over  which  these  muscles  have  control.  I  mention  this, 
however,  only  as  the  usual  condition  of  persons  in  a  state  of 

*  It  seems  that  this  should  be  taken  with  some  Umitation.  '  Sleep,' 
says  Mr.  Macnish,  '  produces  rather  important  changes  in  the  system. 
The  rapidity  of  the  circulation  is  diminished,  and,  as  a  natural  conse- 
quence, that  of  respiration  :  the  force  of  neither  function,  however,  is  im- 
paired ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  rather  increased.  Vascular  action  is  dimin- 
i.shcd  in  the  brain  and  organs  of  volition ;  while  digestion  and  absorption 
all  proceed  with  increased  energy.'  'Sleep  lessens  all  the  secretions, 
wth  one  exception,— that  of  the  skin.'  '  Sleep  produces  peculiar  effects 
on  the  organs  of  vision.  On  opening  the  eyelids  cautiously,  the  pupil  is 
Been  to  be  contracted ;  it  then  quivers  with  an  irregular  motion,  as  if 
dispoised  to  dilate ;  but  at  length  ceases  to  move,  and  remains  in  a  con- 
tracted Ktate  till  the  person  awakes.' 


SLEEP. 


87 


somnolency  ;  for  it  is  one  of  the  remarkable  phenomena  of 
dreaming-,  to  which  we  shall  have  occasion  afterwards  to 
advert,  that  the  mind  does  then  frequently  exert  an  influence, 
of  a  very  extraordinary  nature,  over  the  bodily  functions. 

There  is  something  at  once  interesting  and  strange  in  this 
state,  which  its  familiar  occurrence  causes  us  often  to  lose 
sight  of ;  but  I  must  at  present  confine  myself  to  a  single 
observation.     It  is  an  essential  characteristic  of  sleep,  that,  so 
far  from  being  able  to  induce  it  when  we  please,  the  anxiety 
to  obtain  this  refreshment  only  drives  it  away  from  us ;  and 
it  is  not  till  we  cease  to  think  about  it,  that  it  steals  on  us.    This 
is  doubtless  a  wise  provision  ;  but  then,  were  it  to  invade  our 
body  and  mind  not  only  unsolicited,  but  unexpected,  and  were 
we  unable,  to  any  extent,  to  counteract  its  approaches,  very  dis- 
tressing effects  might  be  produced.      Attend  to  this  for  a 
moment.     If  we  were  to  drop  asleep,  without  warning,  in 
the  midst  of  some  active  operation,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  many 
daily  occurrences,  of  the  most  disastrous  nature,  would  ensue. 
Struck  by  the  unexpected  visitant,  the  seaman,  as  he  ascended 
the  top-mast,  or  clung  on  the  yard-arm,  would  relax  his  grasp, 
and  be  plunged  into  the  sea,  or  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  deck. 
The  coachman,  in  the  middle  of  his  stage,  would  drop  his 
reins,  and  fall  senseless  from  his  box.     The  builder  would 
tumble  with  his  trowel  from  the  wall.     The  porter  would 
fall  paralyzed  under  his  burden.     The  orator  in  the  senate, 
at  the  bar,  or  in  the  pulpit,  would  falter,  and  sink  with  the 
unfinished  sentence  on  his  lips ;  and,  in  one,  the  fire  of  his 
patriotism  ;    in  another,  the  acuteness  of  his  reasoning,  or 
adroitness  of  his  statement ;  and,  in  a  third,  an  exhibition^of 
the  high  and  holy  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  or  of  impassioned 
eloquence  in  a  heart  full  of  zeal,  or  of  the  tender  touches  of 
christian  love,  would  ludicrously  expire  in  a  sudden  drawl,  a 
closing  eye,  and  a  countenance  in  an  instant  relaxed  into  an 
expression  of  drowsy  insensibility.      Or  rather,  almost  all 
these  active  and  useful  operations,  and,  indeed,  most  of  the 
important  business  of  life,  would  be  prevented  by  the  antici- 
pation of  so  inconvenient  and  dangerous  a  catastrophe. 


88  DREAMING. 

It  isj  therefore,  no  slight  proof  of  the  wisdom  of  the  Divine 
Contriver,  that,  while  he  has  rendered  sleep  a  necessary- 
function,  superior  to  the  human  will,  he  has,  at  the  same 
time,  afforded  such  indications  of  its  approach,  as  to  allow 
man  time  and  opportunity  decently  to  compose  his  limbs,  and 
has  even  bestowed  upon  him  such  power  of  temporary  coun- 
teraction, especially  in  seasons  of  active  exertion,  as  to  enable- 
him  to  carry  on  his  operations  for  a  considerable  period,  with- 
out serious  inconvenience,  or  fear  of  interruption,  by  the 
unwelcome  and  death-like  intruder. 


THIRD  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

DREAMING. 

The  phenomena  of  dreaming,  which  are  so  remarkable, 
and  in  some  respects  so  inexplicable,  seem  to  have  been  af- 
forded by  Providence,  as  a  kind  of  agreeable  relaxation  to 
the  ever  active  powers  of  the  mind,  while  the  bodily  functions 
are  in  a  state  of  necessary  repose. 

The  subject  has  attracted  deep  attention  from  the  earliest 
times,  and  has  given  rise  to  views  and  theories  of  very  differ- 
ent kinds,  corresponding  either  with  the  prepossessions  of  a 
particular  age,  or  with  the  speculative  views  of  the  individuals 
by  whom  it  has  been  treated.  In  early  times,  when  a  miracu- 
lous intercourse  was  kept  up  between  heaven  and  earth,  in 
preparing  the  world  for  the  reception  of  the  Saviour,  dreams 
were  frequently  employed  as  the  medium  of  that  intercourse  ; 
and  it  was  perhaps  owing  to  these  real  events,  that  a  supersti- 
tious veneration  for  dreams  was  cherished,  even  in  the  most 
polished  ages  of  the  ancient  world.  The  Greeks  and  Ro- 
mans divided  the  action  of  the  mind,  in  sleep,  into  five  sorts, 
— the  dream,  the  vision,  the  oracle,  the  insomnium,  and  the 
phantasm,  of  which  the  three  firsi  were  supposed  to  be  divine- 
ly  inspired.  To  such  height  had  the  superstitious  feeling 
with  regard  to  dreams  arisen  in  Rome,  in  the  age  of  Augus- 


DREAMING.  89 

tus  Cassar,  that  this  monarch  procured  the  passing  of  a  law 
obliging  all  who  had  dreamed  any  thing  respecting  the  state, 
to  make  it  publicly  known  ;  and  he  himself,  in  consequence 
of  a  nocturnal  vision,  submitted  to  the  degrading  act  of  beg- 
ging in  the  street. 

More  rational  views  have  of  late  been  adopted  on  this 
curious  subject,  though  the  philosophical  theories  which  have 
been  entertained  regarding  it,  are  still  far  from  being  either 
very  satisfactory  in  themselves,  or  consistent  with  each  other. 
On  these  I  shall  not  enter  ;*  but  some  facts  present  themselves 
to  our  notice,  which  seem  worthy  of  remark. 

What  I  have  chiefly  to  observe  is,  that,  whatever  may 
have  been  the  design  of  Providence  in  appointing  the  exist- 
ence of  this  mysterious  state  of  mind,  its  functions  are  so 
guarded  and  qualified,  as,  speaking  generally,  to  prevent  in- 
jurious consequences,  and  often  to  afford  an  exhilarating 
play  to  the  imagination.  The  dreamer  is  introduced  into  a 
kind  of  fairy  land,  where,  as  Addison,  with  his  usual  elegance 
and  felicity,  expresses  it,  '  the  soul  converses  with  numberless 
beings  of  her  own  creation,  and  is  transported  into  ten  thou- 
sand scenes  of  her  own  raising  :  she  is  herself  the  theatre,  the 
actor,  and  the  beholder.'  In  this  state,  when  reason  appears 
for  a  time,  to  have  given  up  the  reins  to  fancy,  it  seems  as 

*  Should  the  reader  wish  to  prosecute  this  subject,  he  may  be  referred 
to  the  interesting  observations  of  Dr.  Abercrombie,  in  his  '  Inquiries  con- 
cerning the  Intellectual  Powers,'  and  to  the  elaborate  work  of  the  late  Mr. 
Robert  Macnish  of  Glasgow,  on  'The  Philosophy  of  Sleep,'  where  the 
phenomena  of  sleep  and  dreaming  are  investigated  with  much  ingenuity, 
and  in  a  manner  which  has  deservedly  gained  the  author  considerable 
celebrity.  Dr.  Abercrombie  states  that  there  is  a  strange  analogy  between 
dreaming  and  insanity;  and  he  defines  the  difference  between  the  two 
states  to  be,  that,  in  the  latter,  the  erroneous  impression  being  permanent, 
affects  the  conduct ;  whereas,  in  dreaming,  no  influence  on  the  conduct 
is  produced,  because  the  vision  isdissipated  on  awaking.  '  This  definition,' 
says  Mr.  Macnish,  '  is  nearly,  but  not  wholly,  correct ;  for,  in  somnam- 
bulism and  sleep-talking,  the  conduct  is  influenced  by  the  prevailing 
dream.  Dr.  Rush  has,  with  great  shrewdness,  remarked,  that  a  dream 
may  be  considered  as  a  transient  paroxysm  of  delirium,  and  delirium  as  a 
permanent  dream.' 

•       8* 


90  DREAMING. 

if  a  very  slight  variation  m  the  intensity  of  the  feeling,  or 
in  the  duration  of  the  delusion,  might  be  attended  with  fatal 
effects.  Sometimes  a  deed  of  horror  is  supposed  to  be  done, 
or  the  most  overwhelming  calamity  is  believed  to  have  hap- 
pened. The  event  is  depicted  in  the  strongest  colours ;  it  is 
actually  seen,  as  it  were,  to  take  place  before  our  eyes  ;  the 
impression  made  on  the  mind  is  that  of  assured  conviction  of 
its  truth,  accompanied  with  the  most  intense  agony ;  a  mo- 
ment longer,  and  the  brain  would  be  set  on  fire.  That 
boundary,  however,  is  never  passed.  A  provision  is  made  by 
which  the  very  violence  of  the  agitation  effects  the  remedy, 
and  the  dreamer  aAvakes  with  a  heart  ready  to  burst  indeed, 
or  with  nerves  strung  and  shaken  to  the  very  verge  of  their 
utmost  endurance  ;  but  the  phantoms  disappear, — the  anguish 
subsides ;  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  the  mind  is  as  calm  and 
serene  as  before. 

The  same  observations  will  apply,  with  still  greater  force, 
to  the  phenomena  of  somnambulism,  the  most  frightful  and 
dangerous  condition  of  persons  in  sleep.  This  is  evidently 
not  a  natural  and  healthy,  but  a  diseased  state  of  the  bodily 
and  mental  powers,  and  therefore  forms  such  an  exception  to 
the  general  rule  as  we  would  make  in  any  other  case  of  mor- 
bid action.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  however,  that  while  this 
irregular  affection  shows  the  distressing  consequences  which 
might  ensue,  were  it  to  be  the  usual  accompaniment  of  the 
dormant  state,  and  thus  very  strikingly  proves  the  wisdom  of 
the  natural  provision,  the  law  of  which  is,  that  the  body 
shall  not  obey  the  dictates  of  the  soul  in  sleep,  it  is  at  the 
same  time  kept  within  such  bounds,  that  fatal,  or  even  dis- 
tressing accidents,  seldom  take  place  from  the  vagaries  of  the 
somnambulist.  We  hear  of  such  persons  climbing  to  the 
tops  of  houses,  or  walking  along  precipices,  and  performing 
other  perilous  feats,  which  in  their  waking  hours  they  would 
have  shuddered  even  to  think  of,  yet,  when  left  undisturbed, 
with  astonishing  dexterity  surmounting  every  danger,  and 
returning  in  safety  to  their  beds ;  thus  affording  a  pleasing 
conviction,  that  He  who  permits  the  occasional  irregularity, 


DREAMING.  91 

has  condescended  with  paternal  care  to  mitigate  its  unhappy 
effects.  But  we  must  further  remark,  that  even  these  are 
extreme  and  very  rare  instances,  and  that,  in  by  far  the  great- 
est variety  of  cases,  in  which  there  is  a  tendency  to  this  dis- 
ease, the  body  only^^^ery  partially  and  very  harmlessly  yields 
to  the  suggestions  of  the  mind.  A  few  muttered  sentences, 
or  a  restless  turning  in  bed,  or  at  most,  perhaps,  a  habit  of 
occasionally  rising  and  walking  about  the  floor,  are  in  gene- 
ral the  only  indications  that  the  body  has  a  tendency,  under 
the  excitement  of  dreaming,  to  obey  the  suggestions  of  the 
imagination. 

Having  mentioned  the  subject  of  somnambulism,  I  am 
reminded  of  a  remarkable  instance  of  it,  recorded  in  the 
Edinburgh  Encyclopedia,  in  its  memoir  of  my  venerable 
relative.  Dr.  Blacklock,  whose  accomplishments  as  a  poet  and 
a  clergyman,  though  struggling  from  his  early  infancy  with 
all  the  privations  of  blindness,  are  so  well  known  to  the  lite- 
rary world.  This  excellent  man  had  received  a  presentation 
to  the  living  of  Kirkcudbright,  and  his  settlement  was  vio- 
lently opposed.  He  was  deeply  agitated  \vith  the  hostility 
which  was  manifested  against  him,  and  after  dining  with 
some  friends  on  the  day  of  his  ordination,  finding  rest  neces- 
sary to  recruit  his  harassed  and  exhausted  spirits,  he  left  the 
table  and  retired  to  bed,  when  the  following  extraordinary 
circumstance  occurred  : — '  One  of  his  companions,  uneasy  at 
his  absence  from  the  company,  went  into  his  bed-room  a  few 
hours  afterwards,  and  finding  him,  as  he  supposed,  awake, 
prevailed  on  him  to  return  again  into  the  dining-room. 
When  he  entered  the  room,  two  of  his  acquaintances  were 
engaged  in  singing,  and  he  joined  in  the  concert,  modulating 
his  voice  as  usual  with  taste  and  elegance,  without  missing  a 
note  or  a  syllable ;  and,  after  the  words  of  the  song  were 
ended,  he  continued  to  sing,  adding  an  extempore  verse,  which 
appeared  to  the  company  full  of  beauty,  and  quite  in  the 
spirit  of  the  original.  He  then  went  to  supper,  and  drank  a 
glass  or  two  of  wine.  His  friends,  however,  observed  him 
to  be  occasionally  absent  and  inattentive.     By-and-by  he  was 


92  DREAMING. 

heard  speaking  to  himself,  but  in  so  low  and  confused  a  man- 
ner as  to  be  unintelligible.  At  last,  being  pretty  forcibly 
roused  by  Mrs.  Blacklock,  who  began  to  be  alarmed  for  his 
intellects,  he  awoke  with  a  sudden  start,  unconscious  of  all 
that  had  happened,  having  been  the  whole  time  fast  asleep.'* 
Lord  Brougham,  in  his  preliminary  discourse  to  the  edi- 
tion of  Paley's  Natural  Philosophy,  makes  use  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  dreaming,  as  an  argument  for  the  mind's  inde- 
pendence of  matter,  and  capacity  of  existence  without  it. 
His  argument,  in  a  few  words  is  this : — In  the  state  of  dream- 
ing, all  the  bodily  functions  which  depend  upon  volition  are 
suspended  ;  and  the  bodily  senses,  though  not  entirely  in  a 
state  of  abeyance,  become  very  obtuse.  But  this  does  not 
interrupt  the  activity  of  the  mind  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  power 
of  imagination,  and  the  celerity  with  which  ideas  pass 
through  the  mind,  are  increased  by  this  cessation  of  commu- 
nication through  the  senses.  The  mind,  therefore,  acts  vig- 
orously, when  the  powers  of  the  body  are  unstrung  ;  and  it 
is  only  advancing  another  step  to  suppose,  that  it  can  act 
altogether  independently  of  its  material  instrument,  and  sur- 
vive it.  To  prove  the  extreme  agility  of  the  mental  powers, 
and  their  total  diversity  from  any  material  substances  and 
actions,  his  lordship  enters  into  some  curious  details  of  the 
phenomena  of  dreaming,  which  incontestably  prove  that  it 
sometimes  requires  but  an  exceedingly  short  period  to  sug- 
gest and  complete  a  long  train  of  incidents.  -  A  puncture 
made,'  says  he,  in  one  of  his  illustrations,  '  will  immediately 
produce  a  long  dream,  which  seems  to  terminate  in  some 
such  accident,  as  that  the  sleeper  has  been  wandering  through 
a  wood,  and  received  a  severe  wound  from  a  spear,  or  the 
tooth  of  a  wild  animal,  which  at  the  same  instant  awakens 
him.  A  gun  fired  in  one  instance,  during  the  alarm  of  inva- 
sion, made  a  military  man  at  once  dream  the  enemy  had 
landed,  so  that  he  ran  to  his  post,  and  repairing  to  the  scene 
of  action,  was  present  when  the  first  discharge  took  place, 
Avhich  also  at  the  same  moment  awakened  him.' 

*  Edinburgh  Encyclopedia, — Article  Blackloek. 


DREAMING.  93 

From  these  and  other  similar  facts,  Lord  Brougham  infers, 
the  infinite  rapidity  of  thought.'  '  Mark,'  he  says,  '  what 
was  done  in  an  instant — m  a  mere  point  of  time.  The  sensa- 
tion of  the  pain  or  noise  beginning,  is  conveyed  to  the  mind, 
and  sets  it  a  thinking  of  many  things  connected  with  such 
sensations.  But  that  sensation  is  lost  or  forgotten,  for  a  por- 
tion of  the  short  instant  during  which  the  impression  lasts  ; 
for  the  conclusion  of  the  same  impression  gives  rise  to  a  new 
set  of  ideas.  The  walk  in  the  Avood,  and  the  hurrying  to  the 
post,  are  suggested  by  the  sensation  beginning.  Then  follow 
many  things  unconnected  with  that  sensation,  except  that 
they  grew  out  of  it ;  and  lastly  comes  the  wound,  and  the 
broadside,  suggested  by  the  continuance  of  the  sensation  ; 
while,  all  the  time,  this  continuance  has  been  producing  an 
effect  on  the  mind  wholly  different  from  the  train  of  ideas 
the  dream  consists  of,  nay,  destructive  of  that  train ;  namely, 
the  effect  of  rousing  it  from  the  state  of  sleep,  and  restoring 
its  dominion  over  the  body.  Nay,  there  may  be  said  to  be  a 
third  operation  of  the  mind  going  on  at  the  same  time  with 
these  two, — a  looking  forward  to  the  denouement  of  the  plot^ 
— for  the  fancy  is  all  along  so  contriving  as  to  fit,  by  termi- 
nating in  some  event,  some  result  consistent  with  the  impres- 
sion made  on  the  senses,  and  which  has  given  rise  to  the 
whole  tram  of  ideas.'* 

*  I  cannot,  without  diffidence,  differ  from  such  an  authority;  but  I 
am  by  no  means  sure,  that  the  view  the  noble  author  has  taken  of  these 
phenomena  is  perfectly  correct.  I  should  rather  be  incUned  to  think,  that 
the  whole  series  of  incidents  in  the  dreams  was  suggested  after  the  shock 
which  at  last  put  an  end  to  sleep,  had  been  received;  and,  during  the  pe- 
riod, somewhat  more  than  an  instant,  though  exceedingly  short,  which 
elapsed  before  the  process  of  awaking  had  been  accomphshed ;  and  that 
the  wound  and  discharge  of  musketry,  imagined  in  the  dream,  were  not 
coincid«  nt  with  the  puncture  and  the  shot  which  actually  took  place,  but 
were  afterwards  conceived,  like  the  other  parts  of  the  dream.  This  view 
disembarrasses  the  matter  of  some  of  its  difficulties ;  but,  on  any  supposi- 
tion, the  dream  must  have  been  nearly  instantaneous,  and  the  rapidity  of 
the  succession  of  ideas  is  wonderful.  I  am  compelled  also  to  doubt  the 
validity  of  the  conclusion  to  which  his  lordship  comes,  that  '  we  only 
dream  during  the  instant  of  transition  into  and  out  of  sleep.'    Several 


94  THIS   WORLD    A    STATE    OF    DISCIPLINE. 

Whither  we  entirely  agree  with  this  reasoning  or  not, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  rapidity  of  thought,  evinced 
in  dreaming,  is  amazing ;  nor  is  it  easy  to  elude  the  inge- 
nious argument  for  the  immateriality  of  the  soul,  which  the 
author  has  founded  on  it ;  though,  if  we  were  to  rely  on  this 
argument,  it  might  land  us  in  the  belief,  that  the  souls  of  the 
lower  animals,  many  of  which  are  known  also  to  dream, 
must  be  immaterial  too. 


FOURTH    WEEK— SUNDAY. 

THIS   WORLD   A   STATE    OF   DISCIPLINE. 

The  peculiar  condition  of  sublunary  things,  as  imperfect 
and  transitory,  is  forced  on  our  notice  by  the  circumstances 
of  the  external  world  during  the  period  of  winter.  The 
beauty  of  the  year  is  gone, — the  cheerful  notes  of  the  lark, 
of  the  blackbird,  of  the  thrush,  and  of  the  whole  choir  which 
poured  the  voice  of  love  and  enjoyment  from  earth  and  sky, 
have  ceased  in  our  land,  and  a  brooding  ominous  melancholy 
reigns  around.  This  is  but  one  instance  of  a  character  im- 
pressed, as  we  have  seen,  on  every  thing  under  the  sun.  All 
are  full  of  change  and  decay ;  and  the  state  of  the  natural 
world  is  only  an  emblem  of  that  which  subsists  in  the  moral 
world,  where  temptation,  and  sin,  and  sorrow,  have  shed  their 
fatal  blight  over  the  once  glorious  prospects  of  rational  and 
immortal  beings. 

This  concTition  would  be  totally  inexplicable,  were  it  not 
for  the  light  thrown  on  the  subject  by  Revelation.  When 
we  are  told  that  we  are  at  present  only  in  the  infancy  of  our 
existence,  placed  here  in  a  state  of  discipline,  to  prepare  us 

facts  contradict  this  view ;  and,  in  particular,  the  phenomena  of  somnam- 
bulism, and  of  speaking  during  sleep,  are  conclusive  agEiinst  it.  The 
case  of  Dr.  Blacklock,  for  example,  cannot  possibly  be  explained  on  his 
Lordship's  hypothesis. 


THIS   WORLD    A    STATE    OF    DISCIPLINE.  95 

for  a  higher  and  more  perfect  residence,  the  mystery  is  un- 
ravelled, and  we  are  made  to  understand,  in  some  degree  at 
least,  why  it  has  pleased  the  All-wise  disposer  of  events  to 
place  us  in  a  world  where  He  only  displays  the  brightness 
of  His  perfections  as  it  were  by  glimpses,  and  cast  clouds  and 
darkness  over  the  rest  of  the  scene. 

It  is  true  that  evil  exists  ;  but  the  Christian  knows  that  it 
is  over-ruled  for  good.  Our  Divine  Master  does  not,  indeed, 
remove  calamity,  but  He  changes  its  nature,  and  gives  us 
power  cheerfully  to  endure  it.  As  His  religion  shows  us  the 
hand  of  a  God  of  love  in  every  thing,  it  causes  us  to  regard 
distress,  from  whatever  earthly  source  it  arises,  as  '  the  chas- 
tisement of  a  Father,  who  chastens  us  for  our  profit,  that  we 
may  become  partakers  of  his  holiness.'  Hence  the  Christian 
is  in  a  condition  to  feel  a  constant  and  delightful  dependance 
on  Providence.  Thus  instructed,  he  may  grieve,  but  he 
cannot  repine  ;  he  may  be  humbled  and  afflicted,  but  he  can- 
not despair.  Shall  a  child,  who  knows  that  a  Father  corrects 
him  in  love,  murmur  under  the  rod  ?  Shall  he  not  rather 
bend  with  humble  resignation,  and  look  up  with  aflfectionate 
joy,  to  the  hand  which  wounds  that  it  may  heal  ? 

This  would  be  the  effect  of  faith  in  the  promises  of  the 
Gospel,  even  although  the  operations  of  Providence  were 
surrounded  with  such  mysterious  darkness,  that  our  limited 
faculties  could  perceive  in  them  no  traces  of  Divine  wisdom 
and  goodness.  But  it  is  no  trifling  addition  to  the  satisfac- 
tion with  which  we  rest  in  these  promises,  that  God  frequently 
condescends  to  make  bare  His  holy  arm  in  our  sight,  that  we 
may  follow  His  hand,  as  it  over-rules  earthly  events,  and 
controls  human  passions  and  affections,  so  as  to  render  both 
moral  and  physical  evil  an  instrument  of  good. 

In  reference  .to  our  condition  as  moral  agents,  and  with  a 
view  to  the  powers  and  faculties,  which,  as  fallen  but  ra- 
tional creatures,  we  possess,  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  in 
what  manner  the  afflictive  vicissitudes  of  life  operate  in  ele- 
vating and  ameliorating  our  character.  If  life  were  free 
from  evil,  there  would  be  little  to  employ  the  judgment,  or 


96  THIS   WORLD  A   STATE    OF   DISCIPLINE. 

call  into  action  the  latent  faculties, — little  to  rouse,  to  affect^ 
and  to  invigorate  the  human  soul.  The  heroic  virtues  of  for- 
titude and  courage,  for  example,  would  be  without  an  object, 
were  there  no  perils  to  encounter,  and  no  enemies  to  subdue. 
What  self-abasement  could  there  be  where  there  was  no  in- 
firmity ?  What  meekness,  what  patience,-  what  forbearance, 
if  there  were  no  injustice  to  sustain,  no  calamities  to  suffer, 
and  no  injuries  to  forgive  ?  Where  were  the  exercise  of 
resignation  in  a  paradise  of  bliss  ?  Where  the  trial  of  faith 
in  a  land  of  righteousness  ? 

The  social  virtues,  too,  as  well  as  the  personal,  could,  under 
such  circumstances,  only  be  called  into  partial  action.  How 
cculd  there  be  any  pity,  where  there  was  no  distress  ? — any 
sympathetic  joy,  where  there  was  no  escape  from  danger  ? — 
any  compassionate  charity,  where  there  were  no  sins  to  cover, 
and  no  wants  to  relieve  ? 

Were  there  no  evils,  then,  either  in  the  circumstances  of 
the  external  world,  or  in  the  moral  and  physical  condition  of 
the  society  in  which  we  dwell,  we  should  be  placed  in  a  state 
to  which  our  fallen  nature  is  not  suited ;  and  some  of  our 
noblest  faculties  would  remain  unexercised  and  unimproved. 
But  it  is  not  so.  Under  the  discipline  of  Providence,  the 
Christian  is  tutored  in  the  school  of  adversity ;  and  is  ren- 
dered prudent  by  disappointment,  humble  by  error,  and  mag- 
nanimous by  endurance.  Baffled,  afflicted,  persecuted,  but 
rising  superior  to  calamity,  he  unfolds  his  patience,  his  meek- 
ness, his  resignation.  Experiencing  the  hatred  and  contempt 
of  those  whom  his  heart  desires  to  benefit,  he  learns  the 
divine  duty  of  forgiveness,  and  is  taught  to  persevere  in 
offices  of  kindness  to  the  ungrateful.  While  engaged  in 
these  severe  but  exalted  exercises,  he  becomes  sensible  of  his 
own  inability,  and  is  forced  to  exclaim, '  Who  is  sufficient  for 
these  things  V  Thus,  he  is  led  to  apply  to  Him  who  has 
said, '  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,  my  strength  is  made 
perfect  in  weakness.'  Weeping  for  his  sins  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross,  he  feels  the  virtue  of  humility  taking  deep  root 
and  growing  in  his  soul ;  and  the  graces  of  faith,  of  hope, 


THIS   WORLD    A   STATE    OP   DISCIPLINE.  97 

and   of  joy  in   the   Saviour   of    sinners,   rising   to    matu- 
rity. 

In  a  word,  the  disciple  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows  is  exposed 
to  temptation,  that  he  may  guard  against  it ;  to  difficulties^ 
that  he  may  overcome  them  ;  to  dangers,  that  he  may  rise 
above  them.  He  is  taught,  by  experience,  the  unprofitable- 
ness of  sin,  and  he  hates  it, — the  emptiness  of  human  hon- 
ours, and  he  despises  them, — the  worthlessness  of  earthly 
pleasures,  and  he  looks  beyond  them. 

Contemplate  the  servant  of  Jesus,  as,  under  the  guidance 
of  Heaven,  he  advances  through  this  vale  of  tears,  gradually 
throwing  off  the  load  of  his  sins, — mixing  with  the  world, 
that  he  may  learn  to  despise  its  follies, — gaining  strength  by 
moral  discipline,  and  improving  in  virtues  and  graces  at 
every  step.  In  this  character,  you  witness  the  highest  glory 
of  human  nature  in  its  state  of  sin  and  suffering  on  earth, — 
a  being  worthy  of  the  approbation  of  angels.  You  see  a 
soldier  taught  to  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,  and  trained  to 
victory  amidst  hardships,  dangers,  and  death, — a  pilgrim  tra- 
velling through  the  wilderness,  with  steady  eye  fixed  on  the 
Holy  Land,  a  pupil  of  God,  instructed  in  the  school  of  His 
providence, — an  heir  of  immortality,  rendered,  by  the  disci- 
pline of  his  mortal  state,  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints 
in  light. 

In  this  noble,  this  admirable  being,  you  no  longer  recog- 
nize the  fallen  descendant  of  Adam,  but  the  adopted  child  of 
God.  Amazing  change !  How  superior  is  this  once  de- 
graded and  wretched  outcast  to  his  former  self !  Clothed 
now  in  the  armour  of  God,  he  goes  forth  '  conquering  and  to 
conquer,' — surrounded  with  danger,  but  trusting  in  an  un- 
seen arm, — struggling  with  sorrow,  yet  kissing  the  hand 
which  inflicts  the  wound, — '  troubled  on  every  side,  but  not 
distressed,  perplexed  but  not  in  despair,  persecuted  but  not 
forsaken,  cast  down  but  not  destroyed,' — eluding  the  snares  of 
the  world,  and  even  successfully  contending  with  '  principali- 
ties and  powers,  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world,  and 
spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.' 

VOL.  IV.  9 


98  THIS    WORLD   A    STATE    OF    DISCIPLINE. 

What  striking  instances  of  the  efficacy  of  christian  princi- 
ples, exercised  amidst  vicissitudes  and  suffering,  do  we  discov- 
er in  the  Apostles  of  our  Lord,  who  rejoiced  when  they  were 
counted  worthy  of  stripes  for  the  sake  of  their  beloved  Mas- 
ter, in  whom  '  tribulation  wrought  patience,  and  patience  ex- 
perience, and  experience  hope  ;'  and  whom  '  hope  made  not 
ashamed,  because  the  love  of  God  was  shed  abroad  in  their 
hearts.'  And,  above  all,  what  a  dignified  and  lovely  exam- 
ple of  the  same  principle  do  we  behold  in  Christ  himself, 
whose  whole  life  was  an  illustration  of  the  power  of  Divine 
grace,  in  calling  the  noblest  faculties  into  exercise,  and  thus 
rendering  the  character  of  man  '  perfect  through  suffering  ;' 
and  who  could, — at  the  close  of  his  earthly  career,  Avhen  He 
saw  the  time  immediately  at  hand,  so  full  of  unutterable  hor- 
rors to  His  human  nature,  in  which  the  whole  world  was  to 
be  combined  against  Him,  in  which  His  very  disciples  were 
basely  to  forsake  their  Master  and  allow  him  to  tread  the 
wine-press  alone,  and  in  which,  during  the  agony  of  myste- 
rious sufferings,  such  as  the  Son  of  God  alone  could  endure, 
the  blood-drops  of  anguish  were  to  burst  from  every  pore  of 
His  sacred  body, — who  could,  I  say,  even  in  this  most  appal- 
ling hour  of  the  power  of  darkness,  preserve  unshaken  His 
confidence  in  an  unseen  God,  and  feeling  that  he  was  not 
alone,  for  the  Father  was  with  Him,  could  in  pious  re- 
signation exclaim,  '  Father,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou 
wilt !' 

And  these  troubles  of  life  prepare  mortal  man  for  immor- 
tality. It  is  this  which  gives  them  their  peculiar  character, 
and  stamps  on  them  an  inestimable  value.  Here  is  the  true 
source  of  christian  consolation.  What  are  a  few  fleeting 
years  of  imperfect  enjoyment,  or  even  of  positive  calamity, 
when,  through  that  very  condition,  we  shall  be  rendered  meet 
to  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  dwell  with  Him  for  ever  ? 
Who  would  not  go  on  a  pilgrimage  through  this  dark  and 
howling  wilderness,  when  he  sees  rising  before  him,  in  all 
their  grandeur  and  beauty,  the  everlasting  mansions  of  the 
promised  land  ?     Who  would  not  cheerfully  bear  the  light 


THE    STARRY   HEAVENS.  99 

affliction  of  the  present  moment,  when  he  knows  that  it  is 
'  working  out  for  him  a  far  more  exceeding,  even  an  eternal 
weight  of  glory  V 


FOURTH   WEEK— MONDAY. 

I.  THE  STARRY  HEAVENS. GENERAL  REMARKS. 

Nothing  is  better  calculated  to  raise  the  contemplative 
mind  to  the  great  Author  of  all  things,  than  a  view  of  the 
starry  heavens,  when  night  has  cast  its  deep  shade  over  the 
face  of  Nature,  and  the  frost  of  winter  has  not  only  converted 
the  earth  into  stone,  and  the  waters  into  crystal,  but  has 
charmed  the  exhalations  from  the  air,  and  endowed  it  with 
such  a  beautiful  transparency,  that  each  little  star  shoots  its 
radiance  on  the  eye,  and  the  whole  sublime  hemisphere 
seems  like  an  immense  and  gorgeous  dome,  studded  with 
diamonds — a  fit  temple  for  the  worship  of  the  Creator.  The 
untutored  savage,  though  he  regards  the  stars  only  as  so 
many  lamps  suspended  from  the  azure  vault,  to  enlighten 
and  cheer  his  abode,  is  struck  with  admiration  of  the  gift ; 
and,  with  a  heart  overflowing  with  gratitude,  falls  down  to 
bless  the  Great  Spirit  Avho  bestowed  it.  Ignorance  and  as- 
tonishment have  gone  still  farther ;  and,  in  almost  all  nations, 
traces  are  to  be  found  of  the  worship  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
— a  rude  but  not  altogether  unnatural  form  of  religion  to  the 
uninstructed  mind.  The  '  Hosts  of  Heaven,'  are  assuredly 
the  most  striking  and  appropriate  visible  emblems  of  the 
glory  of  the  Almighty  Unseen ;  and,  where  the  mind  has 
been  unaccustomed  to  reflect  on  any  objects  but  those  which 
strike  the  senses,  the  mistake  may,  without  difficulty,  be 
accounted  for.  Certainly  such  a  belief  is  neither  so  strange 
nor  so  revolting,  as  the  worship  of  cows  and  serpents,  or  even 
of  men  and  devils,  with  examples  of  which  the  history  of 
heathen  mythology  abounds. 

Science,  however,  even  in  its  earliest  eflfbrts,  easily  shook 


100  THE   STARRY    HEAVENS. 

off  this  superstition  ;  and,  as  it  advanced,  unfolded  new  won- 
ders in  the  sky,  which  extended  the  views,  while  they  intensely 
excited  the  curiosity,  of  man,  and  gave  deep  exercise  to  his 
intellectual  faculties.  Hence  have  resulted  discoveries  which 
have  overwhelmed  the  mind  with  astonishment.  It  does 
appear  little  less  than  miraculojis,  that  a  worm  of  earth,  like 
man,  who  is  bound  to  a  little  spot  of  this  remote  planet ; 
whose  abode  upon  it  is  but  threescore  and  ten  years  ;  whose 
bodily  strength  is  inferior  to  that  of  many  other  animals  ; 
whose  powers  of  vision  are  more  limited  ;  whose  intellect,  in 
ordinary  circumstances,  rises  but  little  beyond  a  mere  provi- 
sion for  daily  subsistence  ;  that  this  being,  with  faculties  and 
means  apparently  so  inadequate,  should  have  been  enabled, 
by  dint  of  an  insatiable  desire  of  knowledge,  and  an  unwea- 
ried perseverance,  to  overcome  so  many  difficulties,  and  to 
forge  a  key  by  which  the  mysteries  of  the  universe  have  been 
unlocked,  and  a  near  view  has  been  obtained  of  the  secret 
springs,  which,  under  the  fiat  of  the  Creator,  move  the  ama- 
zing machinery  of  the  material  Avorld.  Little  did  the  rude 
inhabitants  of  the  earth  think,  when  they  gazed,  in  surprise, 
on  the  tiny  sparks  which  bespangled  the  heavens,  that  each 
of  these  was  a  globe  of  light,  compared  with  which  the 
earth  they  inhabited,  was  but  as  a  ball,  which  a  child  tosses 
in  his  hand  ;  or  that  the  distance  at  which  they  were  situated, 
was  so  amazing,  that  a  hundred  millions  of  miles  was  but  as 
the  length  of  an  infant's  step.  Yet  these  are  truths  now  fa- 
miliar to  every  mind,  and  established  by  demonstrations,  on 
which  scepticism  itself  dare  not  breathe  a  doubt. 

The  world  of  wonders  into  which  astronomy  introduces 
us,  is  calculated  at  once  to  enlarge  and  to  depress  the  mind  ; 
to  depress  it  with  a  sense  of  its  own  insignificance ;  to  en- 
large it  with  views  and  exercises  so  immense,  that,  as  it  ex- 
pands, it  perceives  more  and  more  clearly  the  immeasurable 
vastness  of  the  grasp  it  is  required  to  take  ;  and,  though  con- 
stantly enlarging,  in  proportion  to  its  efforts,  feels  itself,  at 
every  step,  left  hopelessly  behind,  till  at  last  it  is  lost  in 
infinitude. 


THE    STARRY   HEAVENS.  101 

When  a  man  confines  himself  to  his  own  little  locality, 
and  looks  around  him  on  the  subject  earth,  which  his  plastic 
hand  converts  from  a  wilderness  into  a  garden  ;  or  on  the 
lower  animals,  whom  he  subdues  to  his  will,  and  causes,  by 
the  superiority  of  his  mental  powers,  to  supply  his  wants,  and 
administer  to  his  comforts ;  or,  even  on  the  waters  of  the  far- 
spread  ocean,  whose  proud  ^aves   he   conquers,  and  over 
whose  trackless  wastes  he  makes  his  way ;  or  on  the  free  and 
capricious  air,  whose  fury  he  controls,  and  whose  blandness 
he  renders  subservient  to  his  pleasures  or  his  profit, — in  such 
contemplations  he  may  find  much  to  foster  self-complacency, 
and  to  persuade  him  that  he  is,  in  reality,  that  lordly  being 
which  pride  and  vanity  delight  to  portray.     But  the  scenes 
which  astronomy  unfolds  are  altogether  of  a  different  ten- 
dency, and  ought   to   repress  those  swellings   of   self-love, 
which  a  more  partial  and  contracted  view  of  his  situation 
may  excite.     The  voyager  who  has  compassed  the  earth, 
when  he  returns  to  his  native  village,  is  surprised  to  find  that 
every  thing  has,  to  his  vicAV,  contracted  in  its  dimensions,  and 
become  comparatively  mean  and  sordid  in  its  appearance. 
The  houses  have  shrunk  into  hovels ;  the  village-green,  from 
a.  broad-spread  lawn,  has  dwindled  into  a  miserable  court- 
yard ;  miles  have  diminished  into  furlongs ;  and  magnificent 
estates  into  sorry  farms.     This  effect  has  been  produced  by  a 
contrast  with  the  expansion  of  his  own  views,  and  a  similar 
result  arises,  or,  at  least,  ought  to  arise,  from  the  contempla- 
tions of  the  astronomer.     Expatiating  in  the  infinity  of  the 
universe,  the  things  of  earth  seem  to  lessen  while  he  regards 
them.     As  he  pursues  his  inquiries,  the  contrast  becomes 
daily  more  apparent  and  more  humbling.     He  begins  to  per- 
ceive an  emptiness  in  those  things  that  formerly  engaged  his 
attention,  and  interested  his  affections,  which  he  did  not  pre- 
viously suspect.     He  finds  himself  placed  on  a  little  planet, 
whose  comparative  insignificance  is  such,  that,  were  it  struck 
from  the  face  of  creation,  its  fate  would  be  but  like  that  of  a 
fallen  star,  which  loses  itself  in  the  heavens,  and  is  remem 
bered  no  more.     And,  as  to  himself,  what  an  atom  is  he  ! 

9* 


102  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

But  the  mind  cannot  rest  here.  If  the  creation  be  so  in- 
conceivably extensive,  what  is  the  Creator?  This  is  the 
most  interesting  and  elevating  of  all  inquiries.  When  the 
mind  has  dwelt  upon  it,  till  its  importance  is  appreciated,  and 
its  various  bearings  perceived,  and  then  turns  back  upon 
Itself,  the  reflection  naturally  occurs, '  Am  not  I  a  child  of 
this  Almighty  Parent  V  Is  it  not  in  His  universe  that  I  exist  ? 
Has  he  not  constituted  me  a  part  of  the  system  which  His 
Infinite  Wisdom  has  established  ?  And  what,  then,  is  that 
system  with  reference  to  me,  and  the  race  with  which  I  am 
connected  ? 

Such  views  open,  to  the  inquiring  mind,  the  whole  field  of 
Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,  and  lead  irresistibly  to  the 
conclusion,  that  there  is  no  satisfactory  account  of  man's  na- 
ture and  destiny,  but  in  the  inspired  word,  and  no*  resting- 
place  for  his  hopes,  but  in  the  life  and  immortaHty  which 
have  been  brought  to  light  in  the  Gospel  of  Jesus. 


FOURTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

II.    THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. GRAVITATION    AND    INERTIA. 

If  it  be  true,  as  there  is  every  reason  to  believe,  that  the 
fixed  stars,  which  sparkle  in  the  heavens,  are  suns  like  our 
own,  shining,  as  they  certainly  do,  by  their  own  light,  and 
shedding  their  radiance  on  other  worlds,  a  view  of  creation  is 
unfolded  to  us,  which  it  is  both  delightful  and  overwhelming 
to  contemplate  ;  and  to  this  view  we  shall  afterwards  turn. 
At  present  let  us  take  a  rapid  survey  of  the  system  of  which 
we  ourselves  form  a  part. 

Our  star  (for  the  sun,  considered  with  reference  to  the  uni- 
verse, deserves  no  higher  name)  appears  larger  than  other 
stars  to  us,  only  on  account  of  its  nearness ;  but  when  we 
call  it  near,  we  speak  relatively  ;  for  it  is  known  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  us  by  the  amazing  distance  of  95,000,000  of  miles. 
It  is  the  centre  of  our  planetary  system  ;  that  is  to  say,  there 


GRAVITATION    AND    INERTIA.  103 

are  certain  bodies  similar  to  our  own  globe,  which  bear  to  the 
sun  the  same  relation,  being,  like  the  earth,  attracted  to  it  by 
the  all-pervading  law  of  gravitation,  and  only  kept  from  fall- 
ing into  it, — as  a  stone  when  thrown  falls  to  the  ground, — by 
the  velocity  with  which  they  move  in  a  different  direction. 
The  two  well-known  laws,  so  simple  in  their  nature,  and  yet 
so  vast  in  their  effects,  by  which  the  whole  creation  is  mould- 
ed and  regulated,  have,  ever  since  their  discovery  as  universal 
agents,  been  most  justly  regarded  with  the  highest  admira- 
tion ;  and  it  is  not  easy  to  conceive  any  thing  capable  of  im- 
pressing on  the  mind  a  more  exalted  view  of  the  power  and 
wisdom  of  the  Creator.  It  would  be  inconsistent  with  our 
plan  to  enter  deeply  into  this  subject ;  but  some  cursory  ob- 
servations on  a  matter  of  such  intense  interest,  and  so  directly 
illustrative  of  the  perfections  of  God,  cannot  be  considered 
out  of  place.  Every  one  is  familiar  with  the  law  of  gravity 
or  weight, — that  mysterious  power,  which,  acting  uniformly, 
draws  all  things  downwards,  towards  the  centre  of  the  earth. 
It  is  in  virtue  of  this  law,  that,  were  I  to  open  my  fingers,  the 
pen  with  which  I  write  would  fall  flat  upon  the  paper.  It  is 
the  same  law  which  causes  the  ink  to  flow  upon  the  paper 
from  my  pen,  the  paper  to  lie  steadily  on  my  desk,  and  the 
desk  itself  to  stand  firmly  on  the  floor.  Nay,  it  is  this  very 
law  which  gives  solidity  to  the  ground  on  which  I  tread) 
which  has  formed  it  into  a  globe,  and  which  prevents  it  from 
breaking  up  into  shapeless  and  unconnected  masses.  The 
properties  of  this  unseen  agent  are  too  palpable,  in  relation  to 
our  own  sphere,  to  have  escaped  the  attention  of  the  earliest 
inquirers  into  nature.  But  it  was  reserved  to  a  far  later  pe- 
riod to  demonstrate,  or  even  to  conjecture,  that  the  very  same 
power,  Avhich  produces  such  salutary  effects  in  the  earth,  is 
not  only  an  essential  property  of  all  matter,  but  acts  at  the 
greatest  distances,  and  preserves  the  balance  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

The  other  property,  which,  combined  with  gravitation,  is 
employed  in  regulating  the  machinery  of  creation  on  the 
great  scale,  is  also  familiar  to  the  most  ignorant,  in  regard  to 


104  THE   STARRY   HEAVENS. 

some  ot  its  qualities.  Every  child  knows,  that  a  stone 
thrown  forcibly  from  the  hand,  or  an  arrow  shot  from  a  bow, 
will  continue  for  some  time  to  move  forward  in  the  direction 
in  which  it  has  been  projected  ;  but,  then,  this  power  of  con- 
tinued motion,  as  it  comes  under  ordinary  observation,  is  only 
very  limited  in  its  operation,  because  it  is  counteracted  both 
by  the  attraction  of  the  earth  and  the  resistance  of  the  air,  and 
no  force  which  human  skill  can  apply,  is  sufficiently  power- 
ful to  give  an  impetus  to  any  body,  capable  of  overcoming, 
for  a  length  of  time,  these  opposing  forces.  In  the  principle 
itself,  however,  there  is  no  limit ;  and  the  law  is  simply  this, 
that  while  a  body  at  rest  will,  if  not  disturbed,  remain  for 
ever  in  that  state, — a  body  once  set  in  motion,  will,  when  not 
acted  on  by  some  modifying  or  counteracting  force,  move  on 
continually  without  deviation  or  intermission,  in  a  straight 
line.  This  is  the  law  of  inertia. — a  law  which  is  not  less 
universal  than  that  of  gravitation. 

Now,  to  understand  the  operation  of  these  two  laws  in  re- 
lation to  each  other,— first,  suppose  a  small  body,  placed  at 
rest,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  large  one,  also  at  rest,  both 
of  them  in  empty  space.  The  mutual  attraction  would  im- 
mediately begin  to  operate,  and  they  would  move  toward 
each  other  till  they  met,  and  that  Avith  a  rapidity  proportioned 
to  the  quantity  of  matter  contained  in  each,  the  larger  most 
powerfully  attracting  the  smaller.  Suppose,  again,  that  the 
smaller  body,  instead  of  being  placed  at  rest,  was  projected 
with  a  certain  velocity  in  a  direction  different  from  that  in 
which  the  other  was  situated.  That  velocity  might  be  very 
great ;  and  then,  after  a  mutual  disturbance,  arising  from  the 
reciprocal  attraction,  the  moving  body  would  disengage  itself 
from  the  other,  and  fly  ofT  into  boundless  space  ;  or  it  might 
be  very  small,  and  then  the  m  ineHia  would  be  overcome, 
and  the  two  bodies  would  fall  towards  each  other,  and  unite  • 
but,  if  the  projecting  force  were,  within  certain  limits,  pro- 
portioned to  the  gravitating  force,  the  consequence  would  be, 
that  there  would  be  a  certain  point  m  the  progress  of  the 
moving  body,  in  which  the  two  powers  would  balance  each 


THE   PLANETARY   SYSTEJT.  105 

Other,  and  then  that  body  would  continue  to  move,  indeed, 
but  in  a  constant  circuit  round  the  attracting  force,  which 
would  thus  become  its  centre  of  motion,  and  its  course  would 
be  in  an  oval  or  in  a  circle,  according  to  the  force  and  direc- 
tion of  the  motion  originally  impressed. 

This  is,  in  fact,  the  principle  by  which  the  whole  planetary 
system  is  governed.  The  sun,  a  body  of  vast  dimensions,  is 
the  centre  of  attraction  to  which  all  the  planets  gravitate,  and 
into  which  they  are  prevented  from  falling  only  by  the  oppo- 
site power  of  inertia.  The  two  forces,  with  the  nicest  exact- 
ness, balance  each  other ;  the  former,  in  reference  to  this  prin- 
ciple, being  called  the  centripetal,  and  the  latter  the  centrifu- 
gal motion  ;  and  thus  the  great  machine  is  kept  in  action,  and 
the  planets  wheel  steadily  in  their  respective  orbits,  and  per- 
form their  various  beneficent  functions.  I  may  add,  that  this 
is  the  principle,  not  of  the  solar  system  only,  but  of  the  sys- 
tem of  the  universe. 

'  O,  unprofuse  magnificence  divine ! 
O,  wisdom  truly  perfect !  thus  to  call 
From  a  few  causes  such  a  scheme  of  things,— 
Effects  so  various,  beautiful,  and  great, 
An  universe  complete!' 

Thomson. 


FOURTH   WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

III.    THE   STAURY   HEAVENS. THE   PLANETARY   SYSTEM. 

In  the  account  of  the  creation  given  by  Moses,  the  heaven- 
ly bodies  are  spoken  of  merely  with  reference  to  the  earth, 
and  the  living  beings  which  were  created  to  inhabit  its  sur- 
face. Any  other  view  would  have  been  altogether  misplaced, 
and  inconsistent  with  the  design  of  Revelation.  The  words 
of  the  inspired  writer,  therefore,  are, '  God  said,  let  there  be 
lights  in  the  firmament  of  the  heaven,  to  divide  the  day  from 
the  night ;  and  let  them  be  for  signs,  and  for  seasons,  and  for 
days,  and  for  years;  and  let  them  be  for  lights  in  the  firma 


106  THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. 

ment  of  the  heaven,  to  give  light  upon  the  earth ;  and  it  waa 
so.  And  God  made  two  great  lights ;  the  greater  light  to 
rule  the  day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night :  He  made 
the  stars  also.' 

This  account  very  accurately  and  distinctly  enumerates  the 
uses  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  so  far  as  the  inhabitants  of 
our  planets  are  concerned  ;  but  there  is  another  which  may 
be  called  the  philosophical  view  of  the  subject,  on  which 
man  was  wisely  left  to  exercise  his  own  powers.  This  treats 
of  the  heavenly  bodies,  with  reference  to  each  other,  and  to 
the  universe.  Here  a  new  and  most  wonderful  scene  opens 
to  our  view,  bright  with  the  glory  of  the  Divine  perfections ; 
and  this  is  the  scene  which  now  presents  itself  for  our  con- 
sideration. 

Keeping  in  mind  that  our  object  is  not  to  write  a  treatise 
on  astronomy,  but  merely  to  point  out  some  remarkable  facts 
in  the  construction  of  nature,  which  can  only  be  referred  to 
an  intelligent  and  benevolent  First  Cause,  let  us  look  more 
minutely  at  the  appearances  of  the  starry  heavens.  Besides 
the  moon,  which  shall  be  afterwards  considered,  one  of  the 
first  things  which  strike  an  observer,  is,  that  the  great  mass 
of  the  stars,  though  apparently  in  constant  motion  round  a 
point  from  east  to  west,  occasioned  by  the  diurnal  movement 
of  the  earth,  are  yet  stationary, — or,  in  other  words,  preserve, 
generally  speaking,  the  same  relative  position, — with  refer- 
ence to  each  other ;  but  that  there  are  a  very  few  of  those 
lamps  of  night  which  follow  a  different  law,  continually 
changing  their  place,  and  making  progress  among  the  rest 
from  west  to  east,  with  different  degrees  of  velocity.  It  was 
discovered,  too,  as  soon  as  the  telescope  was  applied  to  the 
heavens,  that,  while  no  known  magnifying  power  could  in- 
crease the  apparent  dimensions  of  the  fixed  stars,  these  moving 
bodies  were  readily  affected  by  that  instrument.  Such  cir- 
cumstances indicated  an  essential  difference  in  the  nature  of 
the  two  classes  of  stars ;  and,  in  the  progress  of  science,  it 
was  found  that  the  latter  were  no  other  than  bodies  partaking 
of  the  conditions  of  our  own  globe,  and  moving  like  the 


THE  PLANETARY  SYSTEM.  107 

earth,  in  a  constant  orbit  round  the  sun.     These  are  called 
planets. 

To  the  ancients  only  five  planets  were  known, — Mercury, 
Venus,  Mars,  Jupiter,  and  Saturn.  To  this  list,  modern  sci- 
ence has  added  the  Earth, — which  takes  its  place,  with  rela- 
tion to  its  distance  from  the  sun,  between  Venus  and  Mars, — 
and  Uranus,  or  Georgium  Sidus,  which  is  the  most  distant 
of  them  all.  Besides  these,  a  still  later  discovery  has  been 
made,  of  four  other  planetary  bodies,  which  move  in  orbits 
considerably  more  eccentric  than  the  rest,  and  are  of  much 
smaller  dimensions,  whose  situation  has  been  found  to  be  be- 
tween Mars  and  Jupiter.  All  these  planets  are  nearly  glob- 
ular, and  each  moves  round  its  own  axis,  as  well  as  round 
the  sun.  Some  of  them  have  attendant  bodies,  called  satel- 
lites, of  which  our  moon  is  an  example,  moving  round  their 
primary  planets,  nearly  in  the  same  plane  in  which  the  latter 
revolve  round  the  sun,  and  nearly  also  in  a  similar  orbit. 
Now,  of  the  orbit  of  these  bodies,  the  sun,  as  has  been  ob- 
served, is  the  centre ;  and  the  first  observation  which  may  be 
made  in  reference  to  this  arrangement,  as  indicating  wise  de- 
sign, is,  that  this  central  body  is  the  source  of  light  and  heat. 
Had  the  world  been,  as  the  atheist  contends,  a  mere  fortuit- 
ous concourse  of  atoms, — granting,  for  the  present,  that  other 
arrangements  might  be  accounted  for,  on  causes  entirely  me- 
chanical inherent  in  the  constitution  of  matter, — there  seems 
to  be  no  reason  deducible  from  such  causes,  why  the  great 
body,  whose  enormously  superior  size  constituted  it  the  cen- 
tre of  motion  to  the  smaller  globes,  should,  at  the  same  time, 
be  endowed  with  those  peculiar  properties  so  essential  to  the 
very  existence  of  vegetable  and  animal  life.  How  comes  it 
that  any  of  the  bodies  belonging  to  our  system  should  shed 
light  and  warmth  over  the  rest,  and  that  of  these,  only  one 
should  be  endowed  with  such  properties  ?  If  this  can  be  ac- 
counted for,  then  why  does  that  body  occupy  the  position  at 
the  centre, — the  only  position,  be  it  observed,  which  could 
render  these  life-sustaining  properties  available  for  the  pur- 
pose ?     There  seems  to  be  no  possible  reason,  except  that  of 


108  THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. 

Creative  Intelligence,  why  the  illuminating  body  should  not 
be  one  of  the  planets ;  and,  if  that  had  been  the  case,  how  ir- 
regular, and  how  totally  inefficient  would  have  been  the 
operation. 

This  proof  of  contrivance,  which  is  strikingly  and  convin- 
cingly illustrated  by  Whewell,  attracted  the  attention  of  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  himself.  In  his  correspondence  with  Bentley, 
he  concedes  that  the  sun  and  fixed  stars  might  be  formed  by 
the  mere  force  of  attraction,  and  might  exhibit  their  present 
appearances,  provided  the  matter  were  of  a  lucid  nature  ; 
*  But,'  adds  he,  '  how  the  matter  should  divide  itself  into  two 
sorts,  and  that  part  of  it  which  is  fit  to  compose  a  shining 
body,  should  fall  down  into  one  mass,  and  make  a  sun  ;  and 
the  rest,  which  is  fit  to  compose  an  opake  body,  should  coa- 
lesce, not  into  one  great  body,  like  the  shining  matter,  but  into 
many  little  ones  ;  or,  if  the  sun  were  at  first  an  opake  body, 
like  the  planets,  or  the  planets  lucid  bodies,  like  the  sun,  how 
he  alone  should  be  changed  into  a  shining  body,  whilst  all 
they  continue  opake ;  or  all  they  be  changed  into  opake  ones, 
whilst  he  continued  unchanged, — I  do  not  think  explicable 
by  mere  natural  causes,  but  am  forced  to  ascribe  it  to  the 
counsel  and  contrivance  of  a  Voluntary  Agent.' 

It  seems  impossible  that  any  unbiassed  mind  should  hesi- 
tate to  acquiesce  in  the  conclusion  of  this  great  man ;  and 
thus,  from  the  very  existence  of  a"  sun  in  the  centre  of  our 
system,  a  satisfactory  proof  is  drawn  of  the  being  of  a  God. 


FOURTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

IV.    THE    STARRY  HEAVENS. THE   SUN  AS  THE    SOURCE   OF   LIGHT 

AND    HEAT. 

In  considering  the  advantages  derived  from  that  obviously 
intentional  and  most  wise  arrangement,  by  which  the  sun  has 
been  made  the  centre  of  our  system,  reference  was  necessari- 
ly made  to  that  body,  as  the  source  of  light  and  heat.     A 


109  THE   SUN   THE    SOURCE    OF   LIGHT    AND   HEAT. 

cursory  view  of  some  circumstances  connected  with  these 
properties,  seems,  therefore,  to  suggest  itself  as  an  appropri- 
ate subject  for  this  day's  consideration. 

The  sun  is  a  body  of  such  immense  magnitude,  that  it  fills 
a  space  nearly  twice  as  large  as  is  comprehended  within  the 
orbit  of  the  moon  in  its  motion  round  the  earth, — being  in 
diameter  no  less  than  882,000  miles,  and  in  bulk  considera- 
bly more  than  a  million  of  times  larger  than  the  earth. 
From  this  amazing  orb,  light  and  heat  are  in  some  manner 
communicated  to  our  planet,  and  to  all  the  other  planetary 
bodies,  with  a  velocity  which  surpasses  conception,  the  influ- 
ence, whatever  it  is,  travelling  at  the  rate  of  12,000,000  of 
miles  in  a  minute,  and  reaching  our  globe  in  something  less 
than  eight  minutes.  It  was  supposed  by  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
and  has,  till  lately,  been  assumed  as  a  fact,  that  the  properties 
in  question  were  transmitted  from  the  sun  by  emanation ; 
that  is,  that  he  was  continually  throwing  off  from  his  surface 
a  material  substance,  of  extreme  tenuity,  possessing  theee 
properties.  Late  discoveries,  however,  of  certain  peculiari- 
ties in  the  nature  of  light,  have  given  currency  and  proba- 
bility to  another  opinion,  namely,  that  the  sun  is  no  more 
than  the  spring  which  communicates  activity  to  qualities  or 
substances  residing  in  our  own  atmosphere,  from  which  the 
phenomena  of  light  and  heat  are  derived.  This  is  called  the 
theory  of  vibrations  ;  and  it  has  been  aptly  illustrated  by  the 
manner  in  which  sound  is  caused  and  propagated.  It  sup- 
poses an  ethereal  fluid  diflused  through  the  universe,  of  in- 
conceivable rarity  and  elasticity,  to  which  the  luminiferous 
vibrations  are  communicated,  and  through  which  they  are 
transmitted. 

It  is  not  the  province  of  this  work  to  enter  into  any  dis- 
cussion on  this  curious  subject;  and  it  is  enough  for  our 
present  purpose  to  know,  that  the  Creator  has  caused  the 
most  salutary  effects  to  depend  on  the  presence  and  in. 
fluence  of  this  central  body.  Whether  by  vibration  or  by 
emanation,  the  properties  of  heat  and  light,  indispensable  to 
the  existence  of  organized  beings,  in  all  their  different  grades, 

VOL.  IV.  10 


110  THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. 

are,  by  means  of  the  sun,  adequately  conveyed  to  the  earth, 
otherwise  dark  and  dead.  We  shall  by-and-by  have  occasion 
to  notice  some  of  the  qualities  of  heat,  the  partial  absence  of 
which,  in  our  climate,  at  this  season  of  the  year,  indicates 
how  necessary  this  subtle  agent  is  to  life  and  enjoyment. 
Let  us  at  present,  look  at  the  kindred  element  of  light,  and 
we  shall  see  that  its  operation  is  scarcely  less  indispensable  in 
a  world  constituted  as  ours. 

It  is  necessary  to  vegetable  life.  Without  light,  indeed, 
vegetables  might  grow.  Some  of  the  most  important  powers 
of  vegetation  are  carried  on  under  ground  and  in  darkness, 
and  the  energies  residing  in  the  roots  are  sufficient  to  cause 
the  plant  to  shoot  forth  its  stem,  and  even  to  expand  its  leaves ; 
but,  then,  light  is  essential  to  the  health,  and,  as  it  would  seem, 
to  the  productive  powers  of  plants,  so  that,  without  this  ge- 
nial influence,  they  could  not  survive  beyond  one  generation. 
Colour,  and,  to  a  considerable  extent,  strength  of  fibre  also, 
are  bestowed  on  vegetables  by  the  influence  of  light — a  cir- 
cumstance which  is  familiar  to  gardeners,  who  blanche  their 
celery,  and  other  productions,  by  causing  them  to  grow  in  the 
dark ;  and  which  is  known  to  every  one  who  has  observed 
the  colourless  and  feeble  shoots  of  potatoes,  for  example, 
which  happen  to  grow  in  a  cellar  or  a  pit,  and  the  wonderful 
instmct  which  leads  these  shoots  eagerly  to  extend  in  the 
direction  of  the  slightest  chink  through  which  light  is  intro- 
duced. The  manner  in  which  light  operates  in  bestowing  a 
wholesome  state  on  plants,  appears  to  be  by  a  chemical  ac- 
tion, by  which  they  are  enabled  to  imbibe  carbon,  and  dis- 
engage oxygen.  In  the  absence  of  light,  this  action  is  re- 
versed ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  operation  of  this 
agent,  in  the  process  of  vegetation,  is  not  only  healthful  to 
the  plant,  but  also  useful  to  animal  life,  in  freeing  the  at- 
mosphere from  some  noxious  qualities,  and  restoring  it  to  a 
salubrious  condition.  It  seems  unnecessary  to  remark,  that 
there  is  here  the  unequivocal  impress  of  designing  Intel- 
ligence. 

It  is  further  obvious,  that  the  influence  of  light  on  vegeta- 


MOTIONS    OF    THE   PLANETS.  Ill 

bles,  is  extended  likewise  to  animal  life,  which  derives  its 
support  from  these  productions.  But  this  is  not  all :  for,  on 
living  creatures,  its  more  direct  effects  are  not  less  necessary. 
This  agent  is  essential  to  sight,  a  faculty  of  such  paramount 
importance  ;  and  the  eye,  an  organ  of  most  curious  and  pe- 
culiar construction,  is,  beyond  all  doubt,  framed  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  receiving  its  impressions.  Nothing  can  be 
more  worthy  of  observation,  than  the  manner  in  which  the 
instrument  of  vision  is  adapted  to  the  properties  of  the  agent. 
Light  is  reflected  in  all  directions,  from  every  object  on  which 
it  falls ;  and,  by  the  construction  of  a  camera  ohscura  most 
skilfully  contrived,  these  reflected  rays  convey  form,  colour, 
light,  and  shade, — a  perfect  representation,  in  short,  of  exter- 
nal objects, — into  the  interior  of  the  head  ;  thus,  by  a  myste- 
rious connexion  between  mind  and  matter,  giving  rise,  in 
living  beings,  to  the  faculty  of  sight,  with  all  its  well  known 
properties  and  advantages.  Who  can  doubt  that  there  is  here 
a  proof  of  skill  and  adaptation, — that  light  was  made  for  the 
eye,  and  the  eye  for  light ! 


FOURTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

V.  THE  STARRY  HEAVENS. MOTIONS  OF  THE  PLANETS. 

As  the  fountain  of  light  and  heat  is  placed,  by  the  great 
Creator,  for  obviously  wise  reasons,  in  the  centre  of  our 
planetary  system,  it  is  natural  to  expect,  that  all  the  arrange- 
ments connected  with  this  appointment,  should  be  found  so 
contrived,  as  to  correspond  with  the  beneficent  intention ;  and 
the  more  deeply  we  inquire  into  the  subject,  the  more  dis- 
tinctly do  we  observe  such  an  expectation  realized.  The  ob- 
ject of  the  present  paper  will  be  to  illustrate  this  position, 
with  reference  to  the  motions  of  the  planetary  bodies. 

And,  first,  with  regard  to  their  orbits.  We  have  already 
stated,  that  a  planet,  in  its  path  round  the  sun,  may,  according 
to  the  laws  of  motion,  describe  either  an  oval  or  a  perfect 


112  THE   STARRY    HEAVENS. 

circle.  I  have  now  to  observe,  that  the  oval  might  either  be 
very  long-  or  very  short,  there  being,  so  far  as  appears,  nothing 
in  the  mechanical  law  tending  to  restrict  the  elliptical  form. 
But  it  is  obvious,  that,  if  the  circuit  should  prove  very  eccen 
trie,  the  greatest  inconveniences  would  take  place,  in  a  world 
constituted  like  ours  ;  and,  indeed,  a  total  destruction  of  ani- 
mal life  would  be  the  necessary  consequence ;  because,  at  the 
point  of  the  orbit  nearest  the  sun,  the  fervour  of  his  rays 
would  be  destructive  ;  and,  at  its  greatest  distance,  his  appa- 
rent size,  and  his  illuminating  and  warming  power,  would 
diminish  together,  till  the  land  and  the  sea  would  yield 
equally  to  the  ungenial  influence,  and  be  converted  into  one 
frozen  and  lifeless  mass.  Among  the  almost  numberless 
forms,  therefore,  which  the  orbits  of  the  planets  might  as- 
sume, the  production  and  maintenance  of  organized  exist- 
ences, such,  at  least,  as  those  with  which  we  are  familiar, 
required  that  a  selection  should  be  made  within  narrow 
limits  ;  and  that  selection  has  been  made.  Every  one  of  the 
planets,  with  the  exception  only  of  three  of  the  smallest  of 
these  bodies,  viz.  Mercury,  Juno,  and  Pallas,  which  their  pe- 
culiar circumstances  may  account  for,  move  in  an  orbit  nearly 
approaching  to  a  circle.  The  earth's  orbit,  for  example,  only 
deviates  from  an  exact  circle,  by  the  thirteenth  part  of  its  dis- 
tance from  the  centre ;  and,  though  the  deviation  of  all  the 
other  planets,  except  Venus,  is  somewhat  more  than  this,  that 
deviation  is  so  small,  unless  in  the  instances  already  alluded 
to,  that  it  need  scarcely  be  mentioned  as  a  source  of  inconve- 
nience. '  Taking  the  solar  system  altogether,'  says  Whewell, 
'the  regularity  of  its  structure  is  very  remarkable.  The 
diagram,  which  represents  the  orbits  of  the  planets,  might 
have  consisted  of  a  number  of  ovals,  narrow  and  wide  in  all 
degrees,  intersecting  and  interfering  with  each  other,  in  all 
directions.  The  diagram  does  consist,  as  all  who  have 
opened  a  book  of  astronomy  know,  of  a  set  of  figures,  which 
appear,  at  first  sight,  concentric  circles,  and  which  are  very 
nearly  so  ;  no  where  approaching  to  any  crossing  or  inter- 
fering, except  in  the  case  of  the  small  planets,  already  no- 


MOTIONS   OF   THE   PLANETS.  113 

ticed  as  irregular.  No  one,  looking  at  this  common  diagram, 
can  believe  that  the  orbits  were  made  to  be  so  jiearly  circles 
by  chance,  any  more  than  he  can  believe  that  a  target^  such 
as  archers  are  accustomed  to  shoot  at,  was  painted  in  concen- 
tric circles'  by  the  accidental  dashes  of  a  brush  in  the  hands 
of  a  blind  man.'* 

Another  peculiarity  in  the  motions  of  the  planets,  is,  that 
they  are  all  in  the  same  direction,  and  nearly  in  the  same 
plane.  It  is  quite  evident,  that,  had  chance  originated  these 
motions,  they  might,  and  probably  would,  have  moved  round 
the  sun,  both  as  to  direction,  and  as  to  the  plane  of  their  orbit, 
in  very  different  ways.  Now,  to  those  who  are  acquainted 
with  the  properties  of  the  law  of  attraction,  it  will  appear 
evident,  that  a  most  important  object  is  served  by  the  arrange- 
ment which  actually  subsists.  Let  it  be  observed,  that  such 
is  the  extraordinary  nature  of  this  law,  that  every  particle  of 
matter  attracts,  and  is  attracted,  by  every  other  particle,  the 
power,  of  course,  being  greater,  in  proportion  to  the  quantity 
of  each  mass,  and  its  nearness.  The  consequence  of  this  is, 
that  not  only  does  the  great  central  mass  attract  the  smaller 
bodies,  so  as  to  cause  them  to  revolve  round  it,  but  each  of 
these  smaller  bodies  also  attracts  the  others  ;  and  this  mutual 
attraction,  which,  it  is  easy  to  perceive,  must  be  of  a  very 
complicated  nature,  and  may  produce  the  most  extensive 
effects,  requires  to  be  nicely  adjusted,  in  order  to  preserve  the 
stability  of  the  system.  If  the  numerous  globes,  of  which 
our  system  is  composed,  were  to  move  in  their  respective 
orbits,  without  any  such  adjustment,  our  system  would  be  far 
indeed  from  being  stable.  The  disturbing  forces,  which 
might  only  be  trifling,  when  a  year,  or  even  an  age,  was  con- 
sidered, might,  in  a  long  series  of  ages,  accumulate  to  such 
an  amount,  as  totally  to  disorganize  and  subvert  the  whole 
frame. 

Nor  is  this  a  mere  gratuitous  hypothesis.     Astronomers 

have  actually  discovered,  in  our  solar  system,  an  apparent 

tendency  to  derangement.     Changes  have  been  taking  place, 

*  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p.  156. 

10* 


114  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

owing  to  the  cause  just  mentioned,  which,  at  first  sight,  ap- 
pear to  be  of  #n  alarming  nature.  The  eccentricity  of  the 
earth's  orbit  has  been  gradually  diminishing  ;  the  moon  has 
,  been  approaching  nearer  the  earth,  and  accelerating  her  mo- 
tion ;  and  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic  has  been  diminishing. 
These  changes  have  been  going  on  from  the  period  of  the 
first  scientific  observations  to  the  present  day,  and  are  still  in 
progress.  Are  they  to  continue  without  end?  If  so,  the 
present  system  of  things  is  tending  to  destruction. 

This  question  has,  by  an  amazing  effort  of  calculation, 
been  satisfactorily  answered.  Aided  by  the  mathematical 
investigations  of  ages,  two  celebrated  French  philosophers, 
Lagrange  and  Laplace,  have  solved  the  problem,  and  have 
demonstrated,  that  '  the  planetary  system  will  only  oscillate 
about  a  mean  state,  and  will  never  deviate  from  it,  except  by 
a  very  small  quantity.'*  This  remarkable  result  depends  on 
these  three  conditions, — that  the  orbits  of  the  planets  are 
nearly  circular  ;  that  these  orbits  are  nearly  in  the  same 
plane ;  and  that  they  all  move  in  the  same  direction. 

Had  any  one  of  these  conditions  been  difl^erent,  the  equi- 
librium of  the  system  would  not  have  been  maintained  ;  the 
tendencies  to  derangement  would  not  have  been  counteracted, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  year  after  year,  would  have  been  accele- 
rated by  accumulation  ;  and,  sooner  or  later,  the  whole  fabric 
would  have  broken  up,  and  been  dissolved  by  its  own  inhe- 
rent defect. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  enter  into  any  argument,  to  show  that 
the  combination  of  the  various  arrangements  alluded  to,  could 
not  have  occurred  without  design  ; — that  the  adjustment  is 
that  of  an  Intelligent  Cause  ;  and  that  it  affords  the  clearest 
proof  of  consummate  and  adorable  wisdom. 

*  Laplace,  Expos,  du  Syst.  du  Monde,  p.  441. 


RESISTING   MEDIUM.  115 

FOURTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

VI.    THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. RESISTING    MEDIUM. 

We  have  seen,  in  the  case  of  the  planets,  including  also 
their  satellites,  that  Supreme  Wisdom  has  so  balanced  our 
system,  that  the  disturbing  forces  to  which  it  is  subjected  by 
the  mutual  attraction  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  will,  in  conse- 
quence of  simple  but  selected  arrangements,  in  the  course  of 
ages,  correct  themselves,  so  as  never  to  threaten  any  violent 
change  from  such  mechanical  causes,  so  far,  at  least,  as  the 
power  of  attraction  is  concerned.  This  is  highly  satisfactory, 
as  a  demonstration  against  the  atheistical  doctrine,  Avhich 
would  exclude  from  the  universe  the  operation  of  a  Design- 
ing Cause.  It  does  not,  however,  prove  the  absolute  perma- 
nency of  the  system,  and  we  know,  from  the  '  more  sure 
word  of  prophecy,'  that  it  is  not  destined  to  last  for  ever. 

There  is,  indeed,  another  element  to  be  taken  into  consid- 
eration, which  the  French  philosophers,  already  alluded  to, 
have  overlooked  or  rejected,  but  which  bears  directly  upon 
the  question  of  inherent  stability, — I  mean  the  question  re- 
garding a  resisting  medium.  All  their  calculations  have 
been  founded  on  the  two  simple  powers  of  attraction  and 
inertia,  under  the  supposition  that  these  powers  acted  in 
empty  space,  without  the  existence  of  any  impeding  force. 
If  it  be  found,  therefore,  that  a  resisting  medium  actually 
exists  in  the  system  ;  that  is,  that  there  is  some  fluid  matter, 
however  rare,  in  which  the  celestial  bodies  move,  then  this 
one  fact  will  overturn  the  conclusion  as  to  the  absolute  and 
inherent  permanency  of  the  present  system  of  things,  so  far 
as  mechanical  powers  are  concerned.  Nor  will  this  discovery 
invalidate  the  reasoning  in  the  preceding  paper  ;  for  it  will 
still  remain  a  truth,  worthy  of  the  deepest  admiration,  tlfat 
the  plan  was  adopted,  which,  of  all  others,  is  best  calculated 
to  balance  and  counteract  disturbing  forces,  even  although 
other  considerations  should  prove  that  the  system  was  not 


116  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

intended  to  be  eternal.  It  is  this  principle  which  secures 
the  equal  and  salutary  working  of  the  system,  while  it  lasts, 
and  which  bestows  upon  it  properties  suited  for  the  habita- 
tion of  organized  existences,  during  that  period  ;  and  this  is 
the  whole  extent  of  the  view  for  which  we  have  been  con- 
tending. 

Is  there,  then,  a  resisting  medium, — a  fluid  in  which  our 
system  floats  ?  or  are  our  planetary  spheres  wheeled  in  empty 
space  ?  The  diffusion  of  light  throughout  the  universe, 
might,  of  itself,  form  a  powerful  argument  for  the  existence 
of  such  a  medium,  on  whatever  theory  its  properties  are  ac- 
counted for.  Light  is  either  an  emanation  from  the  great 
central  body,  and  then  that  emanation  must  be  something 
material ;  or  it  is  an  exciting  cause  of  vibratory  motioa  ;  and, 
in  that  case,  the  vibrations  must  apparently  be  conveyed 
through  some  material  substance.  In  either  case,  the  theory 
of  an  absolute  vacuum  seems  to  be  untenable.  But,  inde- 
pendent of  this  view,  some  facts  have  been  very  recently 
discovered,  which  cannot  well  be  accounted  for,  but  on  the 
supposition  of  a  resisting  medium.  I  allude  to  certain  cir- 
cumstances occurring  in  the  motion  of  one  of  the  comets  be- 
longing to  our  solar  system,  to  which  the  importance  of 
Encke's  observations  have  justly  caused  that  astronomer's 
name  to  be  attached.  The  revolution  of  this  body  round  the 
sun,  is  found  to  be  completed  in  a  period  of  about  three  years 
and  four  months,  while  its  orbit  is  so  eccentric  and  elongated, 
that  it  is  more  than  ten  times  nearer  the  sun  in  one  part  of  its 
course  than  in  another.  The  materials  of  Avhich  it  is  com- 
posed, seem  to  be  exceedingly  thin  and  transparent,  so  much 
so,  indeed,  that  the  stars  may  be  seen  through  the  most  con- 
densed part  of  its  nucleus,  without  any  apparent  diminution 
of  their  brilliancy.  In  1786  this  comet  was  first  observed  ; 
but  it  was  not  till  1822  that  its  periods  were  accurately  deter- 
mined ;  and  then  Encke,  on  comparing  the  calculated  with 
the  observed  places,  perceived  a  difference,  which  he  attribu- 
ted to  the  effect  of  a  resisting  medium.  It  was  again  the 
subject  of  observation  in   1825,  in  1828,  and  stjll  more  re- 


RESISTING   MEDIUM.  117 

cently ;  and  the  conclusion  has  become  general,  that  the 
obvious  and  constant  disturbance  of  its  course,  arises  from  no 
other  cause  than  that  of  its  being  affected  by  its  motion  in  an 
ethereal  fluid. 

This  fluid,  however,  must  be  of  inconceivable  rarity,  and 
would  probably  not  produce  any  apparent  effect  in  its  velocity, 
were  it  not  from  the  small  quantity  of  matter  contained  in 
the  vapoury  sphere,  which,  as  will  easily  be  perceived,  must 
increase  the  power  of  resistance  of  the  medium  through 
which  it  moves.  Light  and  loose,  however,  as  the  body  is,  it 
has  been  found  to  be  acted  on  by  the  solar  and  planetary  at- 
traction, in  the  same  manner  with  the  other  heavenly  bodies ; 
and  the  result  having  been  accurately  calculated,  what  Sir  J. 
Herschel  calls  a  residual  phenomenon,  has  been  discovered, 
which  has  given  rise  to  the  inference  of  a  resisting  medium. 

The  effect,  however,  though  something  very  discernible,  is 
yet  but  trifling  ;  and,  what  may  appear  strange,  this  retarda- 
tion of  the  motion,  causes  the  body  to  perform  its  revolutions 
round  the  sun  more  quickly.  The  reason  is,  that  the  in- 
creasing slowness  of  the  motion  has  the  effect  of  augmenting 
the  relative  power  of  the  sun's  attraction,  thus  drawing  the 
comet  nearer  to  himself,  and  shortening  its  orbit.  Within 
the  last  fifty  years,  in  which  its  course  has  been  observed,  it 
has  been  found,  that,  while  it  has  advanced  about  ten  days 
farther  in  its  path,  than  would  otherwise  have  been  the  case, 
the  time  of  its  revolution  has  been  diminished  by  about  two 
days. 

Now,  the  very  same  power  of  resistance,  which  acts  so 
perceptibly  on  this  unsubstantial  body,  must  act  also  on  every 
other  body  which  passes  through  the  same  medium ;  and, 
however  small  the  effect  produced  may  be,  it  must  be  some- 
thing, which,  though  not,  perhaps,  sufficient  to  produce  any 
sensible  effect  on  those  more  solid  bodies,  for  many  centuries, 
must  yet,  in  reference  to  a  period  of  eternal  duration,  be  suf- 
ficient to  derange,  and  finally  to  destroy,  the  whole  system. 
As  yet,  no  retardation  of  the  planetary  bodies  has  been  ob 
served,  which  could  be  referred  to  the  existence  of  a  resisting 


118  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

medium,  because  our  observations  extend  to  a  period  too  lim- 
ited ;  but  this  may  only  prove  the  extreme  remoteness  of  the 
final  catastrophe.  '  It  may  be  millions  of  millions  of  years,' 
says  the  distinguished  author,  whom  we  chiefly  folloAv  in  this 
part  of  our  work, '  before  the  earth's  retardation  may  percepti- 
bly affect  the  apparent  motion  of  the  sun ;  but  still  the  day 
will  come  (if  the  same  Providence  which  formed  the  system, 
should  permit  it  to  continue  so  long),  when  this  cause  will 
entirely  change  the  length  of  the  year,  and  the  course  of  our 
seasons,  and  finally  stop  the  earth's  motion  round  the  sun 
altogether.  The  smallness  of  the  resistance,  however  small 
we  choose  to  suppose  it,  does  not  allow  us  to  escape  this  cer- 
tainty. There  is  a  resisting  medium;  and  therefore  the 
movements  of  the  solar  system  cannot  go  on  for  ever.  The 
moment  such  a  fluid  is  known  to  exist,  the  eternity  of  the 
movements  of  the  planets  becomes  as  impossible  as  a  per- 
petual motion  on  the  earth.'* 

The  obvious  use  to  be  made  of  the  fact  now  stated  is,  that 
our  present  system  of  things,  which  must  have  an  end,  must 
also  have  had  a  beginning.  There  must  have  been  a  period 
in  which  the  impulse,  now  proceeding,  originated.  A  period 
of  commencement  implies  a  cause  ;  the  order  and  regularity 
of  the  system  implies  an  Intelligent  Cause ;  and  thus  the  idea 
of  a  Creator  is  forced  upon  us ;  and,  instead  of  an  eternal 
operation  of  mechanical  powers,  and  an  eternal  succession  of 
organized  existences,  which  is  the  dream  of  the  atheist,  we  see 
a  system,  glorious  with  the  impress  of  a  Divine  hand,  and 
rejoicing  in  the  smile  of  a  present  Deity. 

An  ingenious  living  writer,  after  attributing  the  resisting 
medium  to  the  remains  of  the  nebulous  matter  out  of  which, 
according  to  Laplace's  theory,  the  whole  universe  has  ori- 
ginally been  formed,  concludes  his  account  of  the  disturbing 
effects  of  that  medium  with  the  following  striking  observa- 
tions : — 

'  The  idea  of  the  ultimate  dissolution  of  the  solar  system 
has  usually  been  felt  as  painful,  and  forcibly  resisted  by  phi- 
♦  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p,  200. 


RESISTING   MEDIUM.  I  19 

losophers.  When  Nevvlon  saw  no  end  to  the  deranging  ef- 
fect of  the  common  planetary  perturbations,  he  called  for  the 
special  interference  of  the  Almighty  to  avert  the  catastrophe  ; 
and  great  was  the  rejoicing  when  a  recent  analyst  descried  a 
memorable  power  of  conservation  in  our  system's  constituent 
phenomena.  But,  after  all,  why  should  it  be  painful  ?  Ab- 
solute permanence  is  visible  nowhere  around  us ;  and  the 
fact  of  change  merely  intimates,  that,  in  the  exhaustless 
womb  of  the  future,  unevolved  wonders  are  in  store.  The 
phenomena  referred  to  would  simply  point  to  the  close  of 
one  mighty  cycle  in  the  history  of  the  solar  orb, — the  pass- 
ing away  of  arrangements  which  have  fulfilled  their  objects, 
that  they  might  be  changed  into  new.  Thus  is  the  periodic 
death  of  a  plant  perhaps  the  essential  to  its  prolonged  life, 
and  when  the  individual  dies  and  disappears,  fresh  and  vig- 
orous forms  spring  from  the  elements  which  composed  it 
Mark  the  chrysalis !  It  is  the  grave  of  the  worm,  but  the 
cradle  of  the  sunborn  insect.  The  broken  bowl  will  yet  be 
healed  and  beautified  by  the  potter  ;  and  a  voice  of  joyful 
note  will  awaken  one  day,  even  the  silence  of  the  urn. 

'  Nay,  what  though  all  should  pass  ?  What  though  the 
close  of  this  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  solar  orb,  should  be 
accompanied,  as  some,  by  a  strange  fondness,  have  imagined, 
by  the  dissolution  and  disappearing  of  all  these  shining 
spheres?  Then  would  our  universe  not  have  failed  in  its 
functions,  but  only  been  gathered  up  and  rolled  away,  these 
functions  being  complete.  That  gorgeous  material  frame- 
work, wherewith  the  Eternal  hath  adorned  and  varied  the 
abysses  of  space,  is  only  an  instrument  by  which  the  myri- 
ads of  spirits  borne  upon  its  orbs  may  be  told  of  their  origin, 
and  educated  for  more  exalted  being ;  and  a  time  may  come, 
when  the  veil  can  be  drawn  aside, — when  the  spirit  shall 
converse  directly  with  spirit,  and  the  creature  gaze  without 
hindrance  on  the  effulgent  face  of  the  creator.'* 

*  Dr.  Nichol  'On  the  Arclutecture  of  the  Heavens/  pp.  189-192,— a 
work  containing  a  beautiful  popular  view  of  the  recent  discoveries  of  the 
two  Herschels,  and  other  modern  astronomers,  published  in  June,  1837. 


120  DIVINE   AND   HUMAN 

FIFTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

DIVINE    AND   HUMAN   KNOWLEDGE    COMPARED. 

When  the  philosopher  compares  his  knowledge  of  exter- 
nal nature  with  that  of  his  fellow-men  not  conversant  with 
such  high  studies,  there  is  danger  of  his  becoming  vain  of 
his  attainments.  He  has  unbarred  the  gate  of  science,  and 
penetrated  the  mysteries  of  creation.  He  follows  the  course 
of  the  sun,  and  measures  the  stars,  and  unravels  the  mystic 
changes  of  the  planets,  and  discovers  new  worlds  in  dis- 
tant space,  and  puts  his  finger  on  the  law  which  sustains, 
impels,  and  guides  the  immense  machine  of  the  universe. 
This  sounds  proudly ;  and  if  we  only  consider  the  limited 
faculties  of  man,  his  attainments  are  undoubtedly  worthy  of 
admiration  ;  but  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  the  Divine  per- 
fections, they  dwindle  and  disappear.  With  reference  to 
these,  the  capacity  of  man  to  acquire  knowledge  is  extremely 
limited.  As  he  advances  but  a  few  steps  beyond  the  ordi- 
nary train  of  his  ideas,  he  is  lost  in  the  immensity  of  his  own 
conceptions.  He  has  not  faculties  to  grasp  the  wonders  even 
with  which  he  is  more  immediately  surrounded,  and  how 
much  less  to  form  any  adequate  idea  of  the  nature  and  char- 
acter of  the  Self-existent.  Let  any  man  reflect,  for  an  instant, 
on  the  divine  attributes  of  Eternity,  Infinity,  Unchangeable- 
ness,  and  he  will  at  once  perceive  how  imperfectly  he  com- 
prehends them.  Who  can  do  this  without  being  awed,  con- 
founded, and  bewildered  ?  '  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonder- 
ful for  me ;  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it !' 

But  even  supposing  we  were  capable  of  comprehending 
all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge,  how  extremely  limited  is 
our  sphere  of  observation.  We  are  placed  in  a  remote  corner 
of  creation.  What  a  mere  atom  is  the  world  which  we  in- 
habit, compared  with  the  universe  !  Even  if  we  knew  every 
thing  under  the  sun, — nay,  if  all  the  powers  of  nature  with 
in  our  planetary  system,  with   all  the  transactions  of  the 


KNOWLEDGE    COMPARED.  121 

whole  animated  creation  which  it  contains,  lay  naked  and 
open  before  us,  how  ignorant,  even  then,  would  we  be! 
Worlds  on  worlds,  and  systems  on  systems,  would  still  be 
entirely  unknown  to  us. 

But  how  little  do  we  know  even  of  the  earth  which  we 
inhabit !  We  are  confined  to  a  little  spot  of  this  little  world ! 
How  small  are  the  British  islands  compared  to  the  broad  ex- 
panse of  sea  and  land  !  And  yet,  of  this  diminutive  region, 
how  insignificant  is  the  space  with  which  we  are  acquainted ! 
And  even  of  the  objects  within  our  view,  how  ignorant  are 
we  !  Nay,  of  the  things  with  which  we  are  most  familiar, 
what  do  we  know !  We  observe  their  outward  appearance, — 
we  can  tell  what  they  are  to  the  eye,  to  the  ear,  and  to  the 
touch ;  but  what  they  are  in  their  own  nature,  the  greatest 
philosopher  cannot  so  much  as  conjecture.  Indeed,  the  very 
production  of  organized  existences,  is  an  impenetrable  mystery. 
Who  can  define  the  secret  power  by  which  a  single  blossom 
of  the  spring  germinates  and  grows,  opening  its  beauties  to 
the  sun,  and  embalming  the  air  with  its  perfume  ? 

Compared  with  this  stinted  portion  of  knowledge,  how 
amazing  is  the  knowledge  of  God !  As  He  made  all  things, 
He  must  be  intimately  acquainted,  not  only  with  their  prop- 
erties, but  with  their  very  essence.  His  eye,  at  the  same  ir>. 
stant,  surveys  all  the  works  of  His  immeasurable  creation  ; — 
He  observes,  not  only  the  complicated  system  of  the  uni- 
verse, but  the  slightest  motion  of  the  most  minute  microscop- 
ic insect ; — not  only  the  sublimest  conceptions  of  angels,  but 
the  meanest  propensity  of  the  most  worthless  of  His  creatures. 
At  this  moment,  He  is  listening  to  the  praises  breathed  by 
grateful  hearts  in  distant  worlds,  and  reading  every  grovel- 
ling thought  which  passes  through  the  polluted  minds  of  the 
fallen  race  of  Adam. 

Another  difference  between  Divine  and  human  know- 
ledge, arises  from  the  limited  term  of  man's  existence,  and  the 
limited  extent  of  his  memory.  Threescore  and  ten  years  sum 
up  the  days  of  his  earthly  career.  In  that  short  period,  how 
little  can  he  learn !     How  much  of  that  little  does  he  lose  by 

VOL.  IV.  11 


122  DIVINE    A>{D    HUMAN    KNOWLEDGE. 

inattention,  or  by  defect  of  memory  and  judgment !  Fronx 
books,  indeed,  he  may  acquire  some  knowledge  of  the  past; 
and  from  Revelation,  still  more,  not  only  of  the  past,  but  of 
the  present  and  future.  But  of  what  we  learn  from  the 
works  of  fallible  men,  if  w^e  were  to  deduct  all  that  is  false  or 
doubtful,  how  little  would  remain  !  And  even  of  the  uner- 
ring oracles  of  God,  how  much  is  there  that  we  cannot  fully 
comprehend ! 

To  this,  also,  w^hat  a  contrast  do  we  find  in  the  knowledge 
of  God !  At  one  view,  He  surveys  the  past,  the  present,  and 
the  future.  No  inattention  prevents  Him  from  observing ; 
no  defect  of  memory  or  of  judgment  obscures  His  compre- 
hension. In  His  remembrance,  are  stored  not  only  the  trans- 
actions of  this  world,  but  of  all  the  worlds  in  the  universe ; — 
not  only  the  events  of  the  six  thousand  years  which  have 
passed  since  the  earth  was  created,  but  of  a  duration  without 
beginning.  Nay,  things  to  come,  extending  to  a  duration 
without  end,  are  also  before  Him.  An  eternity  past,  and  an 
eternity  to  come,  are,  at  the  same  moment,  in  His  eye  ;  and 
with  that  eternal  eye  He  surveys  infinity.  How  amazing ! 
How  inconceivable ! 

But  while  we  thus  do  homage  to  the  perfections  of  the 
Eternal,  let  us  not  undervalue  the  studies  by  which  these 
perfections  are  elucidated.  Though,  when  compared  with 
the  Divine  mind,  the  mind  even  of  a  Newton  must  sink  into 
utter  insignificance  ;  yet,  to  feeble  man,  it  is  great, — it  is  ad- 
mirable,— to  have  removed  the  veil  which  lay  on  the  face  of 
nature, — to  have  pierced,  with  keen  glance,  to  the  suns  of 
other  systems,  and  to  have  discovered  the  law,  so  simple  and 
so  sublime,  by  which  the  beauty,  order,  and  harmony  of  the 
universe,  are  sustained.  By  enlarging  our  views  of  nature, 
the  philosopher  enlarges  our  conceptions  of  Nature's  God. 
He  throws  new  light  on  the  power,  the  wisdom,  and  the  in- 
finity of  the  Creator  ; — and  this  is  well,  but  it  is  not  enough. 
Without  a  higher  principle,  his  knowledge  is  ignorance ;  his 
wisdom  is  folly ;  his  light  is  darkness.  Every  discovery 
which  extends  our  conceptions  of  the  Divine  power,  while  it 


t;.i:  ,:-,auicv   in;AVi,v;,  123 

hides  from  our  view  the  beauty  and  grace  of  his  paternal 
character,  only  places  man  at  a  more  awful  distance  from  his 
Maker,  and  surrounds  the  throne  of  the  Eternal  with  new 
terrors,  till,  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  Godhead,  the  corrupted 
child  of  earth  shrinks, — is  consumed, — is  annihilated  ! 

O  !  how  unspeakably  more  cheering  and  glorious, — ^how 
infinitely  better  adapted  to  our  condition  and  our  wants, 
would  be  a  simple  message  from  the  unseen  world,  intima- 
ting favour  to  the  sinful  and  perishing  race  of  Adam !  And 
that  message  has  been  sent.  The  Almighty  has  broken  the 
silence  of  nature,  and  sent  that  message  by  his  own  Son. 


FIFTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

VII.    THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. THE    SATELLITES. 

We  have  considered  the  arrangements  of  the  planetary 
system,  in  reference  to  its  stability,  and  to  the  diffusion  of 
light  and  heat ;  but  there  is  a  contrivance  of  a  different  kind, 
which  seems  to  require  a  slight  notice.  The  existence  of 
satellites,  or  secondary  planets,  as  they  are  called,  is  a  stri- 
king concomitant  of  the  system.  These  smaller  bodies  at- 
tend the  primary  planets  in  their  course  round  the  sun,  par- 
taking of  their  motion,  and  at  the  same  time  wdieeling  round 
them,  in  an  orbit  of  their  own,  at  greater  or  less  distances. 
Now,  it  has  been  remarked  that,  speaking  generally,  these 
moons  are  bestowed  as  attendants  on  the  planets,  in  some  re- 
lation to  their  distance  from  the  sun,  increasing  in  number  in 
proportion  as  we  recede  from  that  luminary.  The  inferior 
planets,  that  is,  those  that  are  nearer  the  sun  than  our  earth, 
have  none.  The  Earth  has  one ;  Jupiter,  w^hich  is  five  times 
more  distant  from  the  sun  than  our  planet,  has  four ;  Saturn, 
w^hich  nearly  doubles  the  distance  of  Jupiter,  has  seven,  be- 
sides the  curious  anomaly  of  a  ring;  Uranus  is  known  to 
have  five,  and  may,  in  all  probability,  have  many  more,  which 
the  extreme  remoteness  of  his  situation,  at  the  distance  of  one 


124  THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. 

billion  eighteen  hundred  and  thirteen  millions  of  miles,  may 
well  render  invisible,  even  with  the  use  of  our  best  instru- 
ments. Supposing,  however,  that  this  is  the  case,  there  are 
still  exceptions  to  the  rule  of  increase.  Mars,  and  the  four 
other  planetary  bodies  which  are  stationed  between  the  Earth 
and  Jupiter,  have  no  attendants.  As  to  the  ultra-zodiacal 
planets,  the  peculiarity  of  their  condition  might  lead  us  to 
expect  this  deviation  ;  and  though  it  may  be  more  difficult  to 
account  for  the  want  of  an  attendant  in  the  case  of  Mars, 
there  are  few  who,  on  this  account,  will  withhold  their  assent 
to  the  truth  of  the  general  observation. 

What  purpose,  then,  do  these  secondary  planets  serve? 
This  question  has  been  well  answered  by  Mr.  Whewell,  in 
reference  to  our  own  moon,  and  in  refutation  of  the  sceptical 
doubts  of  Laplace.  '  A  person  of  ordinary  feelings,'  observes 
this  sound  philosopher,  'who,  on  a  fine  moonlight  night, 
sees  our  satellite  pouring  her  mild  radiance  on  field  and  town, 
path  and  moor,  will  probably  not  only  be  disposed  to  "  bless 
the  useful  light,''  but  also  to  believe  that  it  was  ordained  for 
that  purpose ;  that  the  lesser  light  was  made  to  rule  the 
night,  as  certainly  as  the  greater  light  was  made  to  rule  the 
day. 

'  Laplace,  however,  does  not  assent  to  this  belief  He  ob- 
serves, that  "  some  partisans  of  final  causes  have  imagined 
that  the  mooil  was  given  to  the  earth  to  afford  light  during 
the  night ;"  but  he  remarks  that  this  cannot  be  so,  for  that 
we  are  often  deprived  at  the  same  time  of  the  light  of  the  sun 
and  of  the  moon  ;  and  he  points  out  how  the  moon  might 
have  been  placed  so  as  to  be  always  "  full." 

'  That  the  light  of  the  moon  affords,  to  a  certain  extent^  a 
supplement  to  the  light  of  the  sun,  will  hardly  be  denied. 
If  we  take  man  in  a  condition  in  which  he  uses  artificial 
light  scantily  only,  or  not  at  all,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  moonlight  nights  are  for  him  a  very  important  addition 
to  the  time  of  daylight.  And,  as  a  small  proportion  only  of 
the  whole  number  of  nights  are  without  some  portion  of 
moonlight,  the  fact 'that  sometimes  both  luminaries  are  invis- 


THE    SATELLITES.  125 

ible,  very  little  diminishes  the  value  of  this  advantage.  Why 
we  have  not  more  moonlight,  either  in  duration  or  in  quan- 
tity, is  an  inquiry  which  a  philosopher  could  hardly  be 
tempted  to  enter  upon,  by  any  success  which  has  attended 
previous  speculations  of  a  similar  nature.  Why  should  not 
the  moon  be  ten  times  as  large  as  she  is  ?  Why  should  not 
the  pupil  of  a  man's  eye  be  ten  times  as  large  as  it  is,  so  as 
to  receive  more  of  the  light  which  does  arrive  ?  We  do  not 
conceive  that  our  inability  to  answer  the  latter  question,  pre- 
vents our  knowing  that  the  eye  was  made  for  seeing ;  nor 
does  our  inability  to  answer  the  former,  disturb  our  persua- 
sion that  the  moon  was  made  to  give  light  upon  the  earth.'* 

To  show  that  the  light  derived  from  the  moon  exhibits  no 
jDroof  of  an  Intelligent  Cause,  Laplace  undertakes  to  suggest 
a  better  arrangement  himself,  and  points  out  a  position  of  that 
luminary,  which  would  always  cause  her  to  appear  full  to  the 
inhabitants  of  the  earth.  Mr.  Whewell  answers  this  sugges- 
tion by  proving,  that  such  a  position  could  only  be  found  by 
placing  the  moon  four  times  farther  from  us  than  she  is  at 
present,  which  would  diminish  her  apparent  size  no  less  than 
sixteen  times,  and,  of  course,  proportionally  diminish  her  light. 
Whether  or  not  this  arrangement  would  be  preferable  to  the 
present,  may  well  be  doubted  ;  but  even  if  its  superiority 
could  be  demonstrated,  it  seems  doubtful  if  the  influence  of 
the  disturbing  forces,  which,  on  such  a  supposition,  would 
certainly  act  more  powerfully,  would  suffer  the  arrange- 
ment to  be  stable. 

But  even  allowing  the  full  force  to  Laplace's  objection, 
which  the  validity  of  his  suggestion  could  with  any  show  of 
reason  afford,  it  amounts,  after  all,  just  to  this,  that  the  pro- 
vision thus  made  for  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  living 
creatures,  and  especially  of  man,  is  mingled  with  imperfec- 
tion and  privation.  Is  not  this,  however,  the  precise  charac- 
ter which  is  inscribed  on  all  sublunary  things  ?  and  does  not 
the  analogy  which  we  here  discover,  serve  to  confirm  the 
very  view  of  the  Divine  perfections,  as  exhibited  in  his  works, 

*  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p.  174. 
11* 


126  THE    STARPwY    HEAVENS. 

with  reference  to  the  moral  government  of  the  human  race, 
which  I  have  been  endeavouring  all  along  to  establish  ?  This 
is  a  chequered  scene  of  brightness  and  gloom,  of  sunshine 
and  shade,  of  enjoyment  and  depression  ;  and  such  is  the 
discipline  best  suited  to  our  fallen  condition. 

In  turning  from  our  own  satellite  to  those  of  the  other 
planets,  a  similar  train  of  reasoning  may  be  applied.  These 
nightly  luminaries  attached  to  Jupiter,  Saturn,  and  Uranus, 
certainly  compensate  in  some  degree,  by  their  numbers,  for 
the  increased  deficiency  of  light  arising  from  the  remoteness 
of  their  primaries  from  the  sun.  This  view  will  not  be  suc- 
cessfully redargued  by  the  fact  already  stated,  that  Mars,  and 
the  four  small  planets  still  more  distant  than  he  from  the 
source  of  light,  are  destitute  of  these  useful  appendages.  The 
answer  to  such  an  objection  just  is,  that,  according  to  the 
analogy  of  creation,  we  may  expect  exceptions  for  which  we 
may  be  altogether  incapable  of  assigning  an  adequate  cause ; 
but  the  ignorance  inherent  in  our  limited  views,  can  never 
invalidate  the  evidence  of  facts  and  principles  clearly  es- 
tablished. 


FIFTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

Vni.     THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. RELATIVE    PROPORTIONS    OF    THE 

PLANETARY    SYSTEM. 

Before  concluding  our  remarks  on  the  system  with  which 
we  are  more  immediately  connected,  it  may  be  useful  to  take 
a  general  survey  of  the  whole,  in  its  relative  proportions,  that 
we  may  be  enabled  to  form  to  ourselves  some  idea  of  the 
enormous  scale  on  which  even  our  comparatively  diminutive 
department  of  the  universe  is  constructed.  It  is  exceedingly 
difficult  for  the  mind  to  compare  very  great  things  with  each 
other ;  because,  beyond  a  certain  point,  all  proportions  seem 
to  be  lost  in  a  kind  of  undefined  immensity.  We  are  com- 
monly conversant  with  things  on  so  minute  a  scale,  being 


PROPORTIONS    OF    THE    PLANETARY   SYSTEM.  127 

ourselves  mere  atoms,  as  it  were,  of  a  little  planet,  that  it  re- 
quires an  effort  to  raise  our  thoughts  to  so  vast  a  subject ; 
and,  in  contemplating  it,  we  are,  at  every  step,  forced  to  feel 
the  inadequacy  of  our  own  powers  of  comprehension.  It  is 
reported  of  some  savages,  that  the  scantiness  and  trifling  na- 
ture of  the  objects  which  occupy  their  attention,  have  so  con- 
tracted their  faculty  of  estimating  quantities,  that  they  have 
no  means  of  enumeration  beyond  the  number  of  their  fingers  ; 
and  all  groups  of  objects  above  ten  are  expressed  in  their  lan- 
guage by  a  word  which  implies  what  is  innumerable,  on  ac- 
count of  its  immensity.  We  are  surprised  at  the  want  of 
comprehension  which  this  indicates  ;  but  it  is,  in  reality,  only 
a  greater  degree  of  a  defect  which  belongs  to  the  condition  of 
our  nature  and  circumstances  as  human  beings ;  and  the  as- 
tronomer himself,  familiar  as  he  is  with  numbers  and  quan- 
tities, the  very  statement  of  which  startles  a  less  practised 
mind,  comes  quickly  to  a  point,  at  which,  though  his  mechan- 
ical power  of  calculation  may  continue,  his  imagination  flags, 
his  judgment  is  confounded,  and  he  finds  himself  much  in  the 
state  of  the  untutored  savage. 

The  author  from  whom  we  yesterday  made  an  interesting 
quotation  adverting  to  this  difficulty,  has  taken  an  ingenious 
method  of  bringing  the  relative  proportions  and  distances  of 
the  bodies  connected  with  our  system,  nearer  to  a  level  with 
a  common  apprehension,  by  reducing  their  dimensions.  '  If 
we  suppose  the  earth,'  says  he,  '  to  be  represented  by  a  globe, 
1  foot  in  diameter,  the  distance  of  the  sun  from  the  earth  will 
be  about  two  miles ;  the  diameter  of  the  sun,  on  the  same 
supposition,  will  be  something  above  a  hundred  feet ;  and, 
consequently,  his  bulk  such  as  might  be  made  up  of  two 
hemispheres,  each  about  the  size  of  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's. 
The  moon  will  be  thirty  feet  from  us,  and  her  diameter  three 
inches, — about  that  of  a  cricket  ball.  Thus,  the  sun  would 
much  more  than  occupy  all  the  space  within  the  moon's  orbit. 
On  the  same  scale,  Jupiter  would  be  above  ten  miles  from 
the  sun,  and  Uranus  forty.  We  see,  then,  how  thinly  scat- 
tered through  space  are  the  heavenly  bodies.     The  fixed 


128  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

stars  would  be  at  an  unknown  distance  ;  but,  probabl}^,  if  all 
distances  were  thus  diminished,  no  star  would  be  nearer  to 
such  a  one  foot  earth  than  the  moon  now  is  to  us.  On  such 
a  terrestrial  globe,  the  highest  mountains  would  be  about 
one-eightieth  of  an  inch  high,  and,  consequently,  only  just  dis- 
tinguishable. We  may  imagine,  therefore,  how  impercepti- 
ble would  be  the  largest  animals.  The  whole  organized 
covering  of  such  an  earth  would  be  quite  undiscoverable  by 
the  eye,  except  perhaps  by  colour,  like  the  bloom  on  a 
plum.* 

'  In  order  to  restore  the  earth  and  its  inhabitants  to  their 
true  dimensions,  we  must  magnify  the  length,  breadth,  and 
thickness,  of  every  part  of  our  supposed  models,  forty  millions 
of  times;  and,  to  preserve  the  proportions,  we  must  increase 
equally  the  distances  of  the  sun  and  of  the  stars  from  us. 
They  seem  thus  to  pass  off  into  infinity  ;  yet  each  of  them, 
thus  removed,  has  its  system  of  mechanical,  and  perhaps  of 
organic,  processes,  going  on  upon  its  surface.'! 

While,  by  the  process  of  diminution,  we  are  enabled  to 
form  a  clearer  estimate  of  the  relations  of  those  vast  bodies 
which  exist  in  our  system,  we  may  accomplish  a  similar  ob- 
ject by  magnifymg  those  which,  from  their  minuteness,  strain 
our  imagination  on  the  other  side.  By  far  the  greater  part 
of  organized  beings  are  so  small,  that  the  human  eye  in 
its  naked  state,  formed  only  for  the  discernments  of  objects  of 
practical  utility,  cannot  detect  them.     These  the  microscope 

*  Sir  John  Herschel's  illustration  of  the  relative  magnitudes  and  orbits 
of  the  planets  is  not  less  striking : — '  Choose  any  well  levelled  field  or 
bowling-green:  on  it  place  a  globe  two  feet  diameter,  this  will  represent 
the  SUN ;  Mercury  will  be  represented  by  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  on 
the  circumference  of  a  circle  164  feet  in  diameter  from  its  orbit;  Venus,  a 
pea,  on  a  circle  284  feet  in  diameter ;  the  Earth  also  a  pea,  on  a  circle  of 
430  feet;  Mars,  a  rather  large  pin's  head,  on  a  circle  of  654  feet;  Juno, 
Ceres,  Vesta,  and  Pallas,  grains  of  sand,  in  orbits  of  from  1000  to  1200 
feet;  Jupiter,  a  moderate  sized  orange,  on  a  circle  nearly  half  a  mile 
across ;  Saturn,  a  small  orange  on  a  circle  of  four-fifths  of  a  mile  ;  and 
Uranus,  a  full  sized  cherry  or  small  plum,  upon  the  circumference  of  a 
circle  more  than  a  mile  and  a  half  in  diameter.' 

t  Whewell'a  Bridgewater  Treatise,  pp.  273,  274. 


PROPORTIONS    OF   THE   PLANETARY    SYSTEM.  129 

discloses  ;  and,  while  they  thus  become  apparent  to  the  sight, 
it  requires  a  similar  process  of  the  mind  to  bring  their  amaz- 
ing minuteness  within  the  scope  of  the  understanding.  '  We 
know,'  says  our  author,  '  that  we  may  magnify  objects  thou- 
sands of  times,  and  still  discover  fresh  complexities  of  struc- 
ture. If  we  suppose,  therefore,  that  we  thus  magnify  every 
member  of  the  universe,  and  every  particle  of  matter  of 
which  it  consists,  we  may  imagine  that  we  make  perceptible 
to  our  senses  the  vast  multitude  of  organized  adaptations 
which  lie  hid  on  every  side  of  us ;  and,  in  this  manner,  we 
approach  toward  an  estimate  of  the  extent  through  which 
we  may  trace  the  power  and  skill  of  the  Creator,  by  scruti- 
nizing his  work  with  the  utmost  subtlety  of  our  faculties.' 

These  views  are  calculated  to  impress  the  mind  with  very 
elevated  and  interesting  conceptions  of  the  stupendous  nature 
of  those  Divine  perfections,  by  which  our  system  was  origin- 
ally called  into  existence,  and  is  still  upheld  and  governed ; 
but  it  is,  after  all,  but  the  entrance  to  a  survey  of  the  universe. 
The  planetary  system  to  which  we  belong,  is  but  that  of  a 
single  star ;  and,  when  we  cast  our  eye  over  the  heavens, 
and  endeavour  to  rouse  our  faculties  to  the  comprehension  of 
the  fact,  that  every  one  of  those  little  twinkling  lights  with 
which  the  blue  vault  is  bespangled,  with  the  exception  only 
of  those  few  which  are  known  to  change  their  relative  posi- 
tions, is  a  sun  like  our  own,  and  that  each  of  them  has,  in  all 
probability,  a  planetary  system  analogous  to  ours,  we  want 
words  to  express  the  sublimity  of  the  conception,  and  receive 
a  more  vivid  impression  of  the  feelings  of  the  poet  of  the 
Seasons,  when  overpowered  by  the  vastness  of  his  subject, 
he  exclaims 

'  I  lose 

Myself  in  Him — in  light  ineffable ! 

Come,  then,  expressive  silence — muse  His  praise.' 


130  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 


FIFTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

LX.    THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. DISTANCE    OF    THE    FIXED    STARS. 

The  precise  distance  of  any  of  the  fixed  stars  cannot  be 
ascertained  by  such  means  as  have  hitherto  been  employed 
by  astronomers,  ahhough  it  may  be  considered  as  certain, 
that  the  nearest  of  them  does  not  approach  our  sun  so  near 
as  nineleen  trillions  of  miles !  The  calculation  by  which 
this  inconceivable  distance  is  established,  is  entirely  satisfac- 
tory, and  may  readily  be  understood.  I  shall  state  it  in  as 
popular  a  manner  as  I  can.  As  the  earth  moves  round  the 
sun  at  the  average  distance  of  about  95,000,000  of  miles,  it 
follows  tliat  she  must  be  nearer  those  fixed  stars  that  lie  in 
the  plane  of  her  orbit,  at  one  period  of  the  year  than  at  an- 
other, by  doubla  that  distance,  or  190,000,000  of  miles  ;  but 
it  has  been  found  that  an  approach  of  this  immense  amount 
makes  not  the  very  slightest  perceptible  alteration  in  the  ap- 
parent size  of  these  bodies ;  and  hence  we  justly  conclude, 
that  190,000,000  of  miles  is  but  as  a  point  in  comparison  of 
the  space  which  still  intervenes  between  us  and  them.  On 
this  fact  we  may  form  a  loose  estimate  of  a  distance  within 
which  the  stars,  situated  as  I  have  mentioned,  cannot  be  sta- 
tioned. But  we  must  take  another  and  somewhat  more  sci- 
entific method  of  judging  with  regard  to  the  distance  of  those 
stars  which  are  otherwise  situated.  It  might  be  expected, 
that  the  vast  diameter  of  the  earth's  orbit  would  produce 
some  perceptible  amount  of  annual  parallax  in  the  stars ;  that 
is  to  say,  that  in  moving  over  this  immense  space,  some 
change  would  be  effected  in  their  relative  position,  just  as  a 
lateral  movement  of  a  few  miles  along  a  road  produces  a 
change  in  the  outline  even  of  the  most  distant  hills.  Were 
this  the  case,  the  distance  of  the  stars  might  be  ascertained 
with  some  degree  of  accuracy.  But  it  is  not  so  :  '  After  ex- 
hausting every  refinement,'  says  Sir  John  Herschel,  '  astron 
omers  have  been  unable  to  come  to  any  positive  or  coincident 


DISTANCE    OF    THE   FIXED    STARS.  131 

conclusion  upon  this  head ;  and  it  seems,  therefore,  demon- 
strated, that  the  amount  of  such  parallax,  even  for  the  nearest 
fixed  star  which  has  hitherto  been  examined  with  the  requi- 
site attention,  remains  still  mixed  up  with,  and  concealed 
among,  the  errors  incidental  to  all  astronomical  demonstra- 
tions. Now,  such  is  the  nicety  to  which  these  have  been 
carried,  that,  did  the  quantity  in  question  amount  to  a  single 
second  (that  is,  did  the  radius  of  the  earth's  orbit  subtend,  at 
the  nearest  fixed  star,  that  minute  angle),  it  could  not  possi- 
bly have  escaped  detection  and  universal  recognition.' 
Hence,  by  a  simple  mathematical  process,  he  is  led  to  the 
conclusion,  that  the  distance  of  the  stars  cannot  be  so  small  as 
4,800,000,000  radii  of  the  earth,  or  19,200,000,000,000  miles! 
But,  for  any  thing  we  can  tell,  the  very  nearest  of  them  may 
be  much  farther  removed  from  us  than  even  this  inconceiv- 
able distance. 

Now,  with  regard  to  the  size  of  these  bodies,  remote  as 
they  are,  science  has  invented  a  way  of  forming  some  com- 
parative estimate.  Dr.  Wollaston,  by  experiments  on  the 
light  of  Sirius,  the  brightest  of  the  fixed  stars,  has  ascertained 
that  his  splendour,  when  it  reaches  our  earth,  is  twenty  bil- 
lions of  times  inferior  in  intensity  to  that  of  the  sun.  That 
the  sun,  therefore,  might  be  made  to  appear  no  brighter  than 
Sirius,  he  would  require  to  be  removed  from  us  141,400 
times  his  actual  distance  ;  but  this  is  scarcely  two-thirds  of  the 
distance  beyond  which  we  know  the  nearest  fixed  star  to  be 
actually  placed.  It  follows,  therefore,  that  the  light  of  Sirius, 
and  probably  also  his  bulk,  is  much  greater  than  that  of  our 
sun.  Dr.  Wollaston,  on  data  that  cannot  easily  be  disputed, 
has  assumed  the  distance  of  Sirius  to  be  so  great,  that  his 
intrinsic  light  must  be  nearly  equal  to  fouHeeii  suns.  Sir 
John  Herschel,  taking  a  more  modest  and  cautious,  but  per- 
haps not  truer,  estimate  of  his  distance,  concludes  that, '  upon 
the  lowest  possible  computation,  the  light  really  thrown  out 
by  Sirius,  cannot  be  so  little  as  double  that  emitted  by  the 
sun  ;  or  that  Sirius  must,  in  point  of  intrinsic  splendour,  be 


132  THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. 

at  least  equal  to  two  suns,  and  is,  in  all  probability,  vastly- 
greater.' 

I  cannot  better  conclude  this  paper,  than  by  the  judicious 
remarks  with  which  the  eminent  philosopher,  above  quoted, 
follows  up  his  statements  on  the  size  and  distances  of  the 
fixed  stars.  '  For  ^vhat  purpose,'  says  he,  '  are  we  to  suppose 
such  magnificent  bodies  scattered  over  the  abyss  of  space  ? 
Surely  not  to  illuminate  our  nights,  which  an  additional 
moon,  of  the  thousandth  part  of  the  size  of  our  own,  would 
do  much  better  ;  nor  to  sparkle  as  a  pageant,  void  of  meaning 
and  reality,  and  bewilder  us  among  vain  conjectures.  Use- 
ful, it  is  true,  they  are  to  man,  as  points  of  exact  and  perma- 
nent reference ;  but  he  must  have  studied  astronomy  to  little 
purpose,  who  can  suppose  man  to  be  the  only  object  of  his 
Creator's  care,  or  who  does  not  see,  in  the  vast  and  wonderful 
apparatus  around  us,  provision  for  other  races  of  animated 
beings.  The  planets,  as  we  have  seen,  derive  their  light 
from  the  sun ;  but  that  cannot  be  the  case  with  the  stars. 
These,  doubtless,  then,  are  themselves  suns,  and  may,  perhaps, 
each  in  its  sphere,  be  the  presiding  centre,  round  which  other 
planets,  or  bodies  of  which  we  can  form  no  conception,  from 
aay  analogy  offered  by  our  own  system,  may  be  circulating.'* 


FIFTH   WEEK— THURSDAY. 

X.    THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. IMMENSITY    OF   THE   UNIVERSE. 

On  casting  the  eye  across  the  heavens,  it  is  arrested  by  a 
streak  of  faint  light,  which  passes  athwart  the  whole  sky,  in 
the  direction,  speaking  loosely,  of  east  and  west.  This  streak 
is  called  the  milky  way,  in  allusion  to  a  well  known  childish 
fancy  of  heathen  mythology.  When  we  regard  the  stars 
with  reference  to  this  permanent  band,  we  find  that,  in  pro 
portion  as  they  recede  from  it  on  either  side,  they  gradually 
become  less  and  less  numerous,  till,  towards  the  extreme 

♦  Herschel's  Astronomy,  p.  380. 


IMMENSITY    OF    THE    UNIVERSE.  133 

north  and  south,  there  is  an  obvious  deficiency  in  the  com- 
parative richness  of  the  garniture  with  which  the  mighty 
dome  is  adorned.  On  applying  the  telescope  to  the  diffused 
light  of  this  remarkable  part  of  the  heavens,  the  astronomer 
is  lost  in  admiration  to  find  that  this  appearance  is  occasioned 
by  an  amazing  multitude  of  stars,  too  minute  to  be  detected 
by  the  naked  eye,  and  too  numerous  to  be  accurately  calcu- 
lated, '  scattered  by  millions,  like  glittering  dust,  on  the  black 
ground  of  the  general  heavens.'  Sir  William  Herschel  in- 
forms us,  that,  on  calculating  a  portion  of  the  milky  way, 
about  ten  degrees  long,  and  two  and  a  half  broad,  he  found 
it  to  contain  258,000  stars,  a  quantity  so  great,  in  so  small  a 
space,  that  the  moon  would  eclipse  two  thousand  of  them  at 
once  !  Now,  all  these  are  suns  probably  at  as  great  a  dis- 
tance from  each  other,  as  our  sun  is  from  Sirius, — a  distance 
so  incomprehensible,  when  stated  in  miles,  that  the  best  way 
of  forming  some  clear  idea  of  it,  is  to  compare  it  with  the 
velocity  of  some  moving  body  with  which  we  are  acquainted. 
We  know  of  nothing  so  swift  as  light,  which  moves  at  the 
rate  of  12,000,000  miles  in  a  minute  ;  and  yet  light  would  be 
at  least  three  years  in  passing  between  the  sun  and  Sirius. 
Let  any  one,  then,  comprehend,  if  he  is  able,  the  distances 
implied  in  the  conception,  that  the  minute  and  thickly  stud- 
ded sparks  of  the  milky  way,  are  suns,  each  so  far  separated 
from  each  other,  that  it  would  require  three  years  for  the  light 
of  the  one  to  reach  the  other !  And  yet  this  astonishing 
view  is  not  a  mere  gratuitous  imagination,  but  a  calm  philo- 
sophical deduction  from  observed  facts  and  obvious  analogies. 
Bat  this  stretch  of  the  mental  powers  is  little  compared 
with  what  is  required  for  comprehending  the  conclusions  we 
are  led  to  form,  from  other  celestial  phenomena.  In  various 
parts  of  the  heavens,  and  in  all  quarter?,  there  are  discovered 
either  small  groups  of  stars,  or  certain  dusky  spots,  called 
nebulae,  which  the  power  of  the  telescope  has  multiplied  to 
thousands  of  greater  or  less  distinctness   and  magnitude.* 

*  '  In  the  northern  hemisphere,  after  making  all  allowances,  those 
whose  places  are  fixed  cannot  be  fewer  than  between  one  and  two  thou- 
VOL.  IV.  12 


134  THE   STARRY  HEAVENS. 

Now,  these  nebulae,  when  subjected  to  a  very  strong  magni- 
fying power,  generally  resolve  themselves  into  vast  assem- 
blages of  minute  stars, '  crowded  together,'  as  Sir  John  Her- 
schel  expresses  it, '  so  as  to  occupy  almost  a  definite  outline, 
and  to  run  up  to  a  blaze  of  light  in  the  centre,  where  their 
condensation  is  usually  the  greatest.'  '  Many  of  them,'  adds 
this  astronomer, '  are  of  an  exactly  round  figure,  and  convey 
the  complete  idea  of  a  globular  space,  filled  full  of  stars,  in- 
sulated in  the  heavens,  and  constituting  in  itself,  a  family  or 
society  apart  from  the  rest,  and  subject  only  to  its  own  inter- 
nal laws.  It  would  be  a  vain  task  to  count  the  stars  in  one 
of  these  globular  clusters.  They  are  not  to  be  reckoned  by 
hundreds ;  and,  on  a  rough  calculation,  grounded  on  the  ap- 
parent intervals  between  them  at  the  borders  (where  they  are 
seen  not  projected  on  each  other),  and  the  angular  diameter 
of  the  whole  group,  it  would  appear  that  many  clusters  of 
this  description  must  contain  at  least  10,000  or  20,000  stars, 
compacted  and  wedged  together  in  a  round  space,  whose  an- 
gular diameter  docs  not  exceed  eight  or  ten  minutes  ;  that  is 
to  say,  in  an  area  «ot  more  than  a  tenth  part  of  that  covered 
by  the  moon.' 

Are  these  numerous  spangles,  suns  like  our  own,  sepa- 
rated from  each  other  by  distances  similar  to  those  by  which 
our  solar  star  is  separated  from  the  other  stars  of  the  group 
to  which  he  belongs  1  And  are  we,  then,  to  believe  that  the 
system  of  stars  to  which  our  sun  belongs  is  nothing  else  than 
nebulae  ?  Immense  as  are  the  bodies  which  that  system  em- 
braces, and  extensive,  beyond  all  human  conception,  as  is  the 
space  which  it  occupies,  must  we  conclude,  that  if  viewed 
from  the  distance  of  the  other  nebulae  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking,  it  would  appear  but  as  a  little  cloud,  no.  bigger 
than  a  man's  hand  ?  Such  is,  in  truth,  the  astonishing  con- 
sand  ;  and  you  will  have  a  good  idea  how  plentifully  they  are  distributed, 
by  remarking  that  this  is  at  least  equal  to  the  whole  number  of  stara 
which  the  naked  eye  perceives  on  any  ordinary  night.' — NichoVs  Archi- 
tecture of  the  Heavens,  p.  47. 


IMMENSITY   OF   THE   UNIVERSE.  136 

elusion  to  which  the  study  of  celestial  appearances  seems  al- 
most inevitably  to  conduct  us. 

Now,  if  we  are  permitted,  on  such  a  subject,  to  argue  from 
analogy,  we  may  fancy  to  ourselves  some  such  idea  as  this, 
— that  each  nebula  or  group  of  stars,  bears  the  same  reference 
to  other  groups  which  our  planetary  system  does  to  the  globes 
of  which  it  is  composed ;  and  that,  while  they  may  be  im- 
pressed with  a  rotary  motion  round  each  other^  like  our  sa- 
tellites round  their  primaries,  there  is  some  central  point  of 
unknown    position,   and    immeasurable   dimensions,   round 
which  the  whole  groups  of  the  universe  revolve,  1  ke  our 
little  worlds  round  their  sun.     There  are  not  wanting  rea- 
sons for  such  a  supposition,  extravagant  as  it  may  appear. 
The  two  great  laws  of  gravitation  and  inertia,  by  which  our 
own  system  is  regulated  and  maintained,  have  been  proved 
to  exist  with  precisely  the  same  powers,  at  least  in  some  of 
the  fixed  stars.     The  probability,  therefore,  is,  that  these  are 
universal  qualities  inherent  in  all  material  objects.      This, 
being  granted,  seems  to  imply  the  necessity  of  a  balanced 
rotatory  motion  in  every  system  of  worlds,  for  preserving  the 
general  equilibrium  of  the  whole  ;  because  universal  attrac- 
tion must  prevent  any  body  from  r-emaining  absolutely  sta- 
tionary.    Now,  the  same  principle  appears  to  apply  to  groups 
of  systems  which  applies  to  systems  themselves.     Hence,  we 
may  infer  a  complication  of  movements  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful and  extensive  kind,  combining  not  merely  worlds  with 
worlds,  and  systems  with  systems,  but  nebulae  with  nebulae, 
embracing  the  whole  material  creation,  and  extending  to  in- 
finity.    What  a   magnificent  view  does  this  afford  of  the 
works  of  the  Eternal ;  and  what  a  beautiful  unity  does  it 
give  to  his  operations !     Could  we  but  stretch  our  faculties 
to  the  conception,  we  might  figure  to  ourselves  the  Almighty 
present,  in  some  peculiar  sense,  in  the  centre  of  His  works, 
and  thence  surveying  the  infinite  machine  which  His  hand 
has  formed— groups  upon  groups,  each  containing  tens  of 
thousands  of  worlds,  moving  in  constant  succession  before 
Him^  without  confusion,  and  without  interference,— rolling 


136  THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. 

in  an  ethereal  fluid,  which  bears  light  and  heat  in  the  waves 
of  its  never-failing  tide,  and  which  communicates  life,  and 
intelligence,  and  joy,  to  organized  existences  over  the  whole. 
— reflecting,  wherever  they  move,  the  perfection  of  an  Eter- 
nal Mind,  and  experiencing,  throughout  all  their  mem- 
bers, and  in  all  their  revolutions,  the  blessings  of  a  Father's 
smile. 


FIFTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

XI.    THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. NEBULA. 

Sir  William  Herschel,  by  the  use  of  his  powerful  tele- 
scopes, has  made  other  most  interesting  discoveries  in  the 
starry  heavens,  some  of  which  it  will  be  the  object  of  this  pa- 
per briefly  to  detail,  as  throwing  light  on  the  condition  of  the 
universe,  and  demonstrating  that  the  same  mighty  hand, 
which  '  wheels  the  rolling  spheres'  in  our  own  system,  is 
equally  employing  *s  amazing  powers  in  the  most  distant 
regions,  and  regulating  the  material  world  every  where,  so 
far  as  we  are  able  to  discern,  by  the  same  laws,  under  some 
remarkable  varieties  of  application. 

We  have  already  noticed  the  wonderful  discovery  of  the 
apparently  general  arrangement,  whereby  the  innumerable 
suns,  of  which  the  universe  is  composed,  are  thrown  into 
groups,  each  containing  vast  numbers  of  these  splendid  bo- 
dies, and  comprehending  systems  of  their  own.  Of  these 
nebulae,  as  they  are  called,  our  own  seems  to  be  of  a  singu- 
lar figure,  forming  a  stratum  of  which  the  thickness  is  small 
in  comparison  with  its  length  and  breadth,  and  which  is  di- 
vided into  two  branches,  inclined  at  a  small  angle  to  each 
other,  near  the  point  in  which  our  sun,  with  its  planetary 
system,  is  situated.  This  figure  seems,  at  least,  to  account 
for  the  appearances  of  the  heavens,  with  their  milky  way, 
studded  with  innumerable  stars,  which  branch  off' in  one  place 
in  a  remarkable  manner  from  the  main  body,  and  which,  as 


MEBUL^. 


137 


we  have  observed,  decrease  rapidly  in  numbers,  in  proportion 
to  their  distance  from  that  singular  belt.  The  other  nebulae 
are  of  various  forms,  and  even  seem  to  differ  from  each  other 
in  their  nature.  Sir  William  Herschel  divides  them  into 
six  classes,  of  which  the  two  first  appear  to  be  distinguished 
merely  by  their  relative  distance  from  us,  but  the  rest  to  be 
in  a  state  altogether  different  from  any  thing  of  which  we 
have  experience.  These  latter  he  describes  under  the  four 
heads  of  nebulee,  in  which  there  is  no  appearance  whatever 
of  stars,  planetary  nebulae,  stellar  nebulae,  and  nebulous  stars. 
Of  these  the  variety  is  very  great,  some  being  formed  of  little 
flaky  masses,  like  '  wisps  of  cloud,'  adhering  to  small  stars  ; 
others  being  of  a  round  or  oval  form,  increasing  more  or  less 
in  density  and  brightness  towards  the  central  point ;  others 
offering  '  the  singularly  beautiful  and  striking  phenomenon 
of  a  sharp  and  brilliant  star,  surrounded  by  a  perfectly  circu- 
lar disc  or  atmosphere ;'  others,  again,  of  more  rare  occur- 
rence, are  annular,  exliibiting,  in  the  central  opening,  a  faint 
hazy  light ;  and,  last  of  all,  come  nebulae,  which  have  '  ex- 
actly the  appearance  of  planets,— round,  or  slightly  oval  discs, 
in  some  instances  quite  sharply  terminated,  in  others  a  little 
hazy  at  the  borders,  and  of  a  light  exactly  equable,  or  only  a 
very  little  mottled,  which,  in  some  of  them,  approaches  in 
vividness  to  that  of  actual  planets.'  These  last  are  bodies  of 
enormous  magnitude,— so  large,  indeed,  that  they  would  in- 
clude the  whole  of  our  planetary  system  within  their  diam- 
eter, forming  masses  of  solid  matter,  if  they  are  solid,  such  as 
the  greatest  stretch  of  imagmation  cannot  grasp. 

'  The  nebulae,'  says  the  younger  Herschel,  '  furnish,  in 
every  point  of  view,  an  inexhaustible  field  of  speculation 
and  conjecture.  That  by  far  the  larger  share  of  them  con- 
sists of  stars,  there  can  be  little  doubt ;  and  in  the  intermina- 
ble range  of  system  upon  system,  and  firmament  upon  firma- 
ment, which  we  thus  catch  a  glimpse  of,  the  imagination  is 
bewildered  and  lost.  On  the  other  hand,  if  it  be  true,  as,  to 
say  the  least,  seems  extremely  probable,  that  a  phosphorescent 
or  self-luminous  matter  also  exists,  disseminated  through  ex- 
12* 


138  THE    SIV.RRY   HEAVENS. 

tensive  regions  of  space,  in  the  manner  of  a  cloud  or  fog, — 
now  assuming  capricious  shapes,  like  actual  clouds,  drifted  by 
the  wind,  and  now  concentrating  itself,  like  a  cometic  atmo- 
sphere, around  particular  stars  ; — what,  we  naturally  ask,  is 
the  nature  and  destination  of  this  nebulous  matter  ?  Is  it  ab- 
sorbed by  the  stars,  in  whose  neighbourhood  it  is  found,  to  fur- 
nish, by  its  condensation,  their  supply  of  light  and  heat  ?  Or 
is  it  progressively  concentrating  itself,  by  the  effort  of  its  own 
gravity,  into  masses,  and  so  laying  the  foundation  of  new 
sidereal  systems,  or  of  insulated  stars  ?'* 

The  author  naively  remarks,  that  it  is  easier  to  propound 
such  questions,  than  to  offer  any  probable  reply  to  them  ;  and 
it  would  be  well  if  other  astronomers  were  to  imitate  the 
modesty  and  philosophical  forbearance  of  this  eminent  man. 
But  there  are,  unfortunately,  philosophers,  who  feel  pleasure 
in  every  conjecture  b)'-  which  an  intelligent  First  Cause 
may  be  excluded  from  the  universe ;  and  the  obscure  and 
doubtful  phenomena  afforded  by  these  nebulous  appearances, 
have  furnished  one  of  the  most  profound  mathematicians  of 
his  classf  with  a  theory,  by  which  he  attempts  to  show,  that 
the  whole  construction  of  nature  depends  on  mere  unintelligent 
mechanical  powers.  He  supposes,  for  example,  that  our  own 
sun,  with  his  planetary  system,  was  originally  nothing  less 
than  a  part  of  a  universally  diffused  phosphorescent  vapour, 
which,  condensing  into  a  nucleus,  gave  rise  to  a  revolving 
sun,  of  excessive  heat ;  that  as  the  heat  diminished,  the  solar 
atmosphere  contracted,  leaving  portions  of  itself  detached  by 
the  centrifugal  motion,  which  became  gradually  condensed 
into  solid  planets  and  satellites  :  and  these  he,  with  much  in- 
genuity, attempts  to  show,  from  n)echanical  considerations, 
would  assume  the  form  and  motions  which  we  find  actually 
impressed  on  them.  Mr.  Whewell  mentions  this  '  nebular 
hypothesis,'  as  he  calls  it,  and  triumphantly  shows,  that  even 
granting  it  could  account  for  the  phenomena,  it  could  not  be 
held,  in  the  most  remote  degree,  to  prove  the  sufficiency  of 
mechanical  causes  without  intelligence  and  design.  On  his 
*  Herschel's  Astronomy.  t  Laplace. 


NEBULA. 


139 


hig-hly  satisfactory  reasoning  I  cannot  enterj  but  must  refer 
the  reader  to  the  work  itself :  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  no 
candid  mind  can  resist  the  conclusion  to  which  he  comes 
that,  whatever  may  be  the  scientific  merits  of  this  hypothe- 
sis, they  cannot,  in  sound  reason,  affect  at  all  the  view  of  the 
universe  as  the  work  of  a  wise  and  great  Creator.  '  Let  it 
be  supposed,'  observes  he,  in  conclusion,  '  that  the  point  to 
which  this  hypothesis  leads  us,  is  the  ultimate  point  of  phys- 
ical science  ;  •  that  the  farthest  glimpse  we  can  obtain  of  the 
material  universe  by  our  natural  faculties,  shows  it  to  be  oc- 
cupied by  a  boundless  abyss  of  luminous  matter  ;  still,  we 
ask,  hov/  space  came  to  be  thus  occupied, — how  matter  came 
to  be  thus  luminous  ?  If  we  estabHsh,  by  physical  proofs, 
that  the  first  act  which  can  be  traced  in  the  history  of  the 
world  is,  that  "  there  was  light,"  we  shall  still  be  led,  even 
by  our  natural  reason,  to  suppose  that,  before  this  could  oc- 
cur, "  God  said,  let  there  be  Hght."  ' 

Dr.  Nichol,  who  adopts  the  hypothesis  of  Laplace,  as  to 
the  gradual  conversion  of  nebulae  into  stellar  and  planetary 
systems,  and  illustrates  it  in  a  very  striking  manner,  deduces 
from  it  the  following  pleasing  and  sublime  views : — '  The 
ideas  I  have  presented  to  you — august  and  strange  though 
they  are — should  not  appear  in  contradistinction  to  what 
every  moment  is  passing  around  us.  Supposing  these  phe- 
nomena did  unfold  the  long  growth  of  worlds,  where  is  the 
intrinsic  difference  between  that  growth  and  the  progress  of 
the  humblest  leaf,  from  its  seed  to  its  intricate  and  most  beau- 
tiful organization  ?  The  thought  that  one  grand  and  single 
law  of  attraction,  operating  upon  diffused  matter,  may  have 
produced  all  those  stars  which  gild  the  heavens,  and,  in  fact, 
that  the  spangling  material  universe  is,  as  we  see  it,  nothing 
other  than  one  phase  of  a  mighty  progress,  is  indeed  truly 
surprising  ;  but  1  appeal  to  you  again,  in  what  essential  it 
were  different  from  tha  growth  of  the  evanescent  plant? 
There,  too,  rude  matter  puts  on  new  forms,  in  outward  shape 
most  beauteous  and  in  mechanism  most  admirable  ;  and 
there  cannot  be  a  more  astonishing  process,  or  a  mightier  pow 


140  THE    STARRY   HEAVENS. 

er,  even  in  the  growth  of  a  world  !  The  thing  which  be- 
wilders us  is  not  any  intrinsic  difficulty  or  disparity,  but  a 
consideration  springing  from  our  own  fleeting  condition. 
We  are  not  rendered  incredulous  by  the  nature,  but  over- 
whelmed by  the  magnitude,  of  the  works  ; — our  minds  will 
not  stretch  out  to  embrace  the  periods  of  this  stupendous 
change.  But  time,  as  we  conceive  it,  has  nothing  to  do  Avith 
the  question, — we  are  speaking  of  the  operations,  and  tra- 
cing the  footsteps,  of  One  who  is  above  all  time, — we  are 
speaking  of  the  energies  of  that  Almighty  Mind,  with  regard 
to  whose  infinite  capacity  a  day  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and 
the  lifetime  of  the  entire  human  race  but  as  the  moment 
which  dies  with  the  tick  of  the  clock  that  marks  it — which 
is  heard  and  passes.'* 


FIFTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

XII.    THE    STARRY    HEAVENS. BINARY    STARS. 

There  is  yet  another  singular  phenomenon  in  the  starry 
heavens,  which  shall  form  the  subject  of  this  day's  paper, — I 
allude  to  the  curious  fact  of  the  existence  of  binary  revolving 
stars.  These  are  very  numerous.  Sir  William  Herschel 
has  enumerated  upwards  of  500,  and  Professor  Struve,  of 
Dorpat,  has  recently  added  to  this  number  between  2000  and 
3000.  When  these  combinations  were  first  observed,  it  was 
thought  probable  that  their  extreme  apparent  proximity 
would  enable  astronomers  to  ascertain  their  distance  from  the 
earth,  by  the  discovery  of  an  annual  parallax  ;  for  supposing, 
as  might  naturally  be  expected,  that  one  of  the  combined 
stars  should  be  nearer  the  earth  than  the  other,  and  that  both 
should  prove  to  be  stationary  in  relation  to  each  other,  the 
motion  of  the  earth  in  her  orbit  would  cause  these  stars  to 
alter  their  apparent  position  ;  and,  if  that  should  be  the  case, 
even  in  the  slightest  appreciable  degree,  this  circumstance 
♦  Architecture  of  the  Heavens,  pp.  143,  144. 


BINARY   STARS.  141 

would  furnish  data  on  which  calculations  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance might  be  founded.*  This  consideration  induced 
Sir  William  Herschel  to  turn  his  attention  to  the  double  stars, 
and  to  subject  them  to  careful  and  minute  measurements  ; 
but  he  had  scarcely  begun  this  task,  when  he  was  arrested  by- 
phenomena  of  a  very  unexpected  character.  Instead  of  the 
effect  which  might  be  produced  by  the  earth's  annual  motion, 
he  observed,  in  many  instances,  a  regular  progressive  change, 
'  in  some  cases  bearing  chiefly  on  their  distance  ;  in  others, 
on  their  position,  and  advancing  steadily  in  one  direction,  so 
as  clearly  to  indicate  either  a  real  motion  of  the  stars  them- 
selves, or  a  general  rectilinear  motion  of  the  sun  and  the 

*  We  may  perhaps  despair  of  fixing  the  distance  of  any  but  the  very 
nearest  of  the  fixed  stars,  by  means  of  noting  their  parallax,  i.  e.  the  va- 
riation which  takes  place  in  their  relative  position  in  different  parts  of  the 
earth's  orbit;  but  here  is  another  and  highly  ingenious  method  of  deter- 
mining the  distances  of  the  binary  stars,  which  has  been  pointed  out  by 
M.  Arago.  This  method  depends  on  the  progressive  motion  of  light. 
If  the  orbit  of  a  revolving  star  presents  nearly  its  edge  to  the  observer's 
eye,  it  is  evident  that  during  one  half  of  its  revolution  it  is  constantly  re- 
ceding from  the  observer,  and,  during  the  other  half,  constantly  approach- 
ing him.  Supposing  the  light  of  that  star  to  take  thirty  days  in  travel- 
ling to  the  earth  from  the  nearest  point  of  its  orbit,  it  will  require  more 
than  thirty  days  to  reach  the  earth  from  the  farthest  point.  Hence  it  will 
appear  to  spend  more  time  in  one  part  of  its  orbit  than  in  the  other ;  and 
the  difference  between  the  calculated  and  the  apparent  time  of  its  transit 
through  the  nearest  and  farthest  halves  of  its  orbit,  though  it  should  be 
but  a  few  seconds,  will  supply  the  astronomer  with  the  data  he  requires. 
The  two  observed  semi-revolutions  differ  from  each  other  by  the  double 
of  the  time  which  the  light  takes  to  pass  across  the  star's  orbit.  Hence 
half  the  difference  of  time  expressed  in  seconds,  and  multiplied  by,  200,000, 
the  number  of  miles  which  light  traverses  in  a  second,  will  give  the  diam- 
eter of  the  orbit.  This  element  known,  the  distance  from  the  earth  is 
easily  found.  What  a  new  accession  to  our  knowledge  will  be  acquired, 
when,  by  a  long  and  careful  observance  of  these  double  stars,  this  dis- 
covery is  made.  '  The  day  in  which  the  distance  of  a  double  stai  is  de- 
termined,' says  M.  Arago,  '  will  be  the  day  in  which  it  may  be  weighed, 
in  which  we  shall  know  how  many  millions  of  times  it  contains  more 
matter  than  our  globe.  We  shall  thus  penetrate  into  its  internal  constitu- 
tion, though  it  may  be  removed  from  us  more  than  120,000,000,000,000 
of  leagues.' 


142  THE   STARRY    HEAVENS. 

whole  solar  system,  producing  a  parallax  of  a  higher  order 
than  would  arise  from  the  earth's  orbitual  motion,  and  which 
might  be  called  systematic  parallax.' 

After  a  patient  investigation  of  twenty-five  years,  the  elder 
Herschel  ascertained,  what  has  been  further  established  by 
subsequent  observations,  '  that  there  exist  sidereal  systems, 
composed  of  two  stars,  revolving  about  each  other  in  regular 
orbits.'*  Between  fifty  and  sixty  instances  of  changes  in  the 
position  of  double  stars,  were  adduced  by  this  astronomer,  in 
communications  published  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal 
Society  for  1803  and  1804.  The  revolutions  of  these  com- 
binations of  stars  round  each  other,  are  of  extremely  different 
periods,  one  in  the  Crown  being  completed  in  little  more 
than  forty  years,  while  that  which  is  found  in  the  Lion,  ex- 
tends to  a  cycle  of  no  less  than  1200  years.  Many  of  the 
double  stars  exhibit  the  curious  and  beautiful  phenomenon 
of  contrasted  or  complimentary  colours.  In  such  instances, 
the  larger  star  is  usually  of  a  ruddy  or  orange  hue,  while  the 
smaller  one  appears  blue  or  green.  The  complimentary 
colour  of  the  smaller  star  may,  in  some  instances,  be  consid- 
ered as  an  optical  illusion  ;  but  the  contrast  cannot  be  thus 
accounted  for  in  others.  The  double  star  in  Cassiopeia,  for 
instance,  exhibits  the  beautiful  combination  of  a  large  white 
star,  and  a  small  one  of  a  rich  ruddy  purple.  Sir  John  Her- 
schel, in  mentioning  these  combinations,  indulges  his  fancy 
in  the  following  somewhat  amusing  remarks  : — '  It  may  be 
easier  suggested  in  words,  than  conceived  in  imagination, 
what  variety  of  illumination  two  suns, — a  red  and  a  green,  or 
a  yellow  and  a  blue  one, — must  aflx)rd  a  planet  circulating 
about  either ;  and  what  charming  contrasts  and  "  grateful 
vicissitudes," — a  red  and  a  green  day,  for  instance,  alterna- 
ting with  a  white  one,  and  with  darkness, — might  arise  from 
the  presence  or  absence  of  one  or  other,  or  both,  above  the 
horizon.'! 

*  In  some  instances  the  combination  consists  of  three  stars,  in  others 
of  four,  and  even  of  more,  with  very  complex  motions. 
+  Herschel's  Astronomy,  p.  395. 


BINARY    STARS.  143 

Without  entering  into  this  speculation,  which,  of  course, 
is  taken  from  the  views  and  tastes  of  human  beings,  and  may- 
or may  not  bear  reference  to  the  feelings  of  the  animated 
creation  in  these  distant  worlds,  I  cannot  dismiss  this  curious 
subject  without  a  single  remark  on  the  beautiful  variety 
Avhich  appears  in  the  works  of  the  Creator,  combined  with  a 
sameness  which  gives  evidence  of  the  architecture  of  One 
creating  hand.  The  revolving  motions  of  these  binary  stars 
have  been  found  to  be  governed  by  the  same  centripetal  and 
centrifugal  forces  as  regulate  and  preserve  the  order  and  har- 
mony of  our  own  planetary  system.  M.  Savary,  Professor 
Encke,  and  the  younger  Herschel,  having  each  applied  the 
Newtonian  law  of  gravitation  to  the  calculation  of  the  ellip- 
tic orbits  of  binary  stars,  have  thus  elicited  their  periods,  and 
the  forms  of  their  ellipses  ;  and  the  correspondence  between 
their  calculated  and  observed  places,  has  satisfactorily  proved 
the  existence  of  the  law  in  these  remote  regions  of  the  uni- 
verse. Here,  then,  a  new  element  is  added  to  our  knowl- 
edge of  creation.  The  identity  of  the  light  emitted  by  the 
fixed  stars,  and  by  our  own  sun,  had  been  previously  ascer- 
tained, as  well  as  various  other  particulars  which  seemed  to 
mark  these  distant  luminaries  as  belonging  to  the  same  uni- 
versal system  ;  but  although,  united  with  these  considera- 
tions, the  phenomena  of  comets  seemed  to  intimate  some  con- 
nexion between  the  great  laws  which  govern  our  own  plane- 
tary worlds,  and  those  of  other  suns  ;  and  although  analogy 
certainly  rendered  the  extension  of  these  laws  to  all  things 
created  more  than  probable,  it  was  not  till  the  revolution  of 
these  binary  stars  was  observed,  and  subjected  to  calculation, 
that  the  fact  was  demonstrated. 

It  is  most  curious  and  instructive  to  trace  the  same  char- 
acter in  the  operations  of  the  Eternal,  throughout  every  cor- 
ner of  His  universe,  which  science  unfolds  to  our  view.  It 
is  true,  that  even  now,  after  all  the  insight  which  astronomy- 
has  afforded  of  more  distant  worlds,  it  is  but  a  faint  glimpse 
that  we  obtain  ;  but  still  that  glimpse,  while  it  unfolds  a  pro- 
fusion of  wonders,  establishes  principles  which  connect  sys- 


144  DISCOVERIES    OF   THE 

tern  with  system,  and  group  with  group  ;  and  the  gradation 
and  variety  which  it  displays,  correspond  so  remarkably  with 
what  we  perceive  around  us,  both  on  the  large  and  the 
minute  scale,  that  we  seem  warranted  in  feeling  confidence 
in  our  reasonings  founded  on  these  analogies,  and  while  we 
trace  every  where  the  exercise  of  the  same  power  and  wis- 
dom, may  legitimately  infer  also,  everywhere,  the  exercise  of 
the  same  moral  qualities. 


SIXTH   WEEK— SUNDAY. 

DISCOVERIES    OF   THE   TELESCOPE   AND   MICROSCOPE   COMPARED. 

The  inconceivable  space,  and  innumerable  quantities,  with 
which  we  become  conversant  in  contemplating  the  pheno- 
mena of  the  heavens,  while  they  stretch  the  human  mind, 
till  it  is  lost  in  infinity,  are  calculated  to  produce  a  peculiar 
effect  on  our  religious  views  and  feelings.  They  elevate  our 
conceptions  of  the  Creator,  and  fill  us  with  the  utmost  aston- 
ishment and  awe.  But  there  is  something  so  incomprehen 
sible  in  the  attributes  of  that  Self-existent  Being,  by  whose 
power  these  wonders  were  created,  and  by  whose  wisdom 
they  are  governed,  as  to  overpower  and  confound  the  mind. 
In  the  presence  of  such  a  God,  we  appear  to  become  as  noth 
ing ;  and,  were  we  only  to  dwell  on  the  immensities  of 
nature,  it  seems  as  if  we  should  scarcely  be  in  a  fit  state  for 
receiving  the  truths  of  revealed  religion,  or  for  cherishing 
those  pious  and  filial  affections,  which  the  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel  are  so  admirably  adapted  to  excite.  After  wandering 
through  the  boundless  realms  of  space,  and  observing  worlds 
on  worlds,  and  systems  on  systems,  and  even  groups  of  sys- 
tems on  groups,  in  interminable  succession,  all  glorious  with 
the  perfections  of  the  Eternal,  itds  not  easy  to  conceive,  that 
the  dreadful  and  stupendous  Power,  who  created  and  sustains 
this  infinite  universe,  should  condescend  to  care  for  such 
worms  of  earth  as  we  are, — much  less  that  He  should  ex- 


TELESCOPE   AND   MICROSCOPE    COMPARED.  145 

tend  to  us  the  tender  affections  of  a  Father.  To  think  of 
such  a  Being  providing  food  for  the  ravens,  and  sustaining 
the  sparrow  in  its  flight,  or  even  looking  regardfully  on  man, 
and  numbering  the  hairs  of  the  hoary  head,  or  counting  the 
beatings  of  the  infant's  heart,  seems,  to  the  mind  thus  exclu- 
sively prepossessed,  as  little  better  than  a  fond  and  idle  dream. 
A  general  Providence,  such  a  mind  will  readily  admit ;  but, 
that  the  Creator  and  Sustainer  of  the  universe  should  occupy 
Himself  with  the  little  affairs  of  such  an  insignificant  and 
worthless  creature  as  man,  is  a  doctrine,  to  say  the  least,  by 
no  means  so  congenial  to  the  habits  of  thinking  which  as- 
tronomy induces. 

It  is  not,  however,  only  in  the  large  and  magnificent  scale 
of  operations,  to  which  the  view  of  the  starry  heavens  intro- 
duces us,  that  the  perfections  of  the  Creator  are  visible.  We 
have  seen  that  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  may  be  equally 
perceived  to  be  at  work  in  little  things  as  in  great.  '  The 
cattle  on  a  thousand  hills  are  His.' — He  not  only  created  them, 
and  endowed  them  with  most  wonderful  instincts  for  self- 
preservation,  and  faculties  for  enjoyment ;  but  has  adapted 
these  instincts  and  faculties  to  the  revolution  of  the  seasons, 
and  the  revolution  of  the  seasons  to  them.  The  deeper  we 
examine  this  subject,  the  more  powerfully  are  we  struck 
with  proofs  of  the  minute  and  tender  care  of  a  Parent  in 
making  provision  for  the  wants  of  His  offspring.  Descend- 
ing from  the  larger  to  the  smaller  animals,  we  find  no  point 
in  the  scale  where  this  parental  character  stops,  or  is  even 
diminished.  The  same  wise  and  most  wonderful  provision 
is  made  for  the  worm  and  the  mite,  as  for  the  lion  and  the 
elephant, — their  bodies  are  equally  formed  with  consummate 
art,  and  equally  contrived  with  amazing  care,  for  the  circum- 
stances in  which  they  are  placed,  and  the  means  of  subsis- 
tence and  happiness  within  their  reach. 

Nor  is  this  all :  Science  applies  its  skill  to  aid  nature  in 
investigating  the  little  as  well  as  the  great.  If,  by  means  of 
the  telescope,  the  astronomer  has  been  enabled  to  lay  open  a 
thousand  wonders  of  the  starry  heavens,  hid  from  our  unaid- 

VOL.  IV.  13 


146  DISCOVERIES    OF    THE 

ed  sight,  and  taught  us  to  believe,  that,  after  all,  we  are  only 
on  the  threshold  of  discovery  in  this  department ;  that  we 
still  see  '  as  through  a  glass  darkly ;'  and  that  it  is  but  a  faint 
and  feeble  glimpse  of  creation  which  our  most  approved  in- 
struments can  exhibit ; — the  microscope  has  directed  our  at- 
tention to  wonders  no  less  worthy  of  admiration  on  our  own 
earth,  and  within  our  own  limited  locality,  and  has  informed 
us  that  there  is  a  species  of  infinitude  in  the  minuteness  of 
organized  existences,  as  well  as  in  the  magnitude  of  those 
which  are  unorganized ;  that,  in  the  former,  as  well  as  in  the 
latter, — in  the  myriads  of  inhabitants  in  a  drop  of  water,  or 
on  the  leaf  of  a  plant,  or  in  a  grain  of  sand, — the  perfections 
of  the  Creator  are  no  less  certainly  to  be  seen,  than  in  those 
mighty  suns  which,  at  his  command,  shed  light,  and  life,  and 
joy  over  their  attendant  worlds,  and  fills  boundless  space  with 
His  glory. 

It  is  here  that  the  Christian  finds  an  antidote  against  those 
doubts  which  a  contemplation  of  infinite  magnitude  might 
otherwise  excite  in  his  mind.  If  it  be  natural  for  him  to  ask; 
with  some  feeling  of  unbelief,  '  Can  the  Creator  of  innumer- 
able worlds  look  down  with  pity  on  the  sinful  race  of  Adam? 
Can  he  be  conceived  to  deal  with  this  race  in  the  way  which 
Scripture  unfolds  ?  Is  it  possible  that  He,  the  Eternal  God, 
should,  in  very  truth,  send  his  only  begotten  Son  to  this  little 
planet,  to  dwell  with  men,— taking  upon  himself  their  nature  ; 
subjecting  Himself  to  their  infirmities ;  nay,  for  their  sakes, 
suffering  sorrow,  torture,  and  death  ?'— If,  I  say,  it  be  natural 
for  the  mind,  expanded  by  the  philosophy  of  the  heavens,  to 
put  these  sceptical  questions,  it  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  brought 
back  to  a  sounder  state,  when  it  takes  in  a  more  comprehen- 
sive view  of  the  Divine  character,  and  humbly  contemplates 
the  very  same  Hand  which  moves  the  universe,  preserving 
the  existence,  and  presiding  over  the  enjoyment  of  the  micro- 
scopic world. 

This  view  is  most  beautifully  and  convincingly  unfolded 
by  Dr.  Chalmers,  in  what  have  been  called  his  '  Astronomi- 
cal Sermons.'     By  a  comparison,  in  his  own  characteristic 


TELESCOPE   AND   MICROSCOPE    COMPARED.  147 

manner,  of  the  discoveries  of  the  microscope  with  those  of  the 
telescope,  he  shows  that  we  have  as  much  reason,  from  the 
works  of  creation,  to  conceive  of  the  Creator,  as  infinitely- 
minute  in  His  providential  care,  as  we  have  to  conceive  of 
Him  as  infinitely  great  and  powerful ;  and,  having  establish- 
ed this  important  truth,  he  leads  us  irresistibly  to  the  conclu- 
sion, that  the  exhibition  made  of  the  Divine  Being  in  His 
Revealed  Word,  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  character  of 
Himself,  which  he  has  impressed  on  nature. 

'  They,  therefore,'  says  this  admirable  writer,  '  who  think 
that  God  will  not  put  forth  such  a  power,  and  such  a  good- 
ness, and  such  a  condescension,  in  behalf  of  this  world,  as  are 
ascribed  to  Him  in  the  New  Testament,  because  He  has  so 
many  other  worlds  to  attend  to,  think  of  Him  as  a  man. 
They  confine  their  view  to  the  informations  of  the  telescope, 
and  forget  altogether  the  informations  of  the  other  instrument. 
They  only  find  room,  in  their  minds,  for  His  one  attribute, 
of  a  large  and  general  superintendence,  and  keep  out  of  their 
remembrance  the  equally  impressive  proofs  we  have  for  His 
other  attribute,  of  a  minute  and  multiplied  attention  to  all  the 
diversity  of  operations,  where  it  is  He  that  worketh  all  in  all. 
And  when  I  think,  that,  as  one  of  the  instruments  of  philoso- 
phy has  heightened  our  every  impression  of  the  first  of  these 
attributes,  so  another  instrument  has  no  less  heightened  our 
impression  of  the  second  of  them, — then  I  can  no  longer  re- 
sist the  conclusion,  that  it  would  be  a  transgression  of  sound 
argument,  as  well  as  a  daring  impiety,  to  draw  a  limit  around 
the  doings  of  this  unsearchable  God  ;  and,  should  a  professed 
revelation  from  Heaven,  tell  me  of  an  act  of  condescension,  in 
behalf  of  some  separate  world,  so  wonderful  that  angels  de- 
sired to  look  into  it,  and  the  Eternal  Son  had  to  move  from 
his  seat  of  glory  to  carry  it  into  accomplishment,  all  I  ask 
is  the  evidence  of  such  a  revelation ;  for,  let  it  tell  me  as 
much  as  it  may  of  God  letting  himself  down  for  the  benefit 
of  one  single  province  of  his  dominions,  this  is  no  more  than 
I  see  lying  scattered  in  numberless  examples  before  me,  and 
running  through  the  whole  line  of   my  recollections,  and 


148  TELESCOPE   AND    MICROSCOPE    COMPARED. 

meeting  me  in  every  walk  of  observation  to  which  I  can  be- 
take myself;  and,  now  that  the  microscope  has  unveiled  the 
wonders  of  another  region,  I  see  strewed  around  me,  with 
a  profusion  which  baffles  my  every  attempt  to  comprehend  it, 
the  evidence  that  there  is  no  one  portion  of  the  universe  of 
God  too  minute  for  his  notice,  nor  too  humble  for  the  visita- 
tion of  his  care.' 

It  gives  me  pleasure  to  conclude  this  quotation  with  the 
following  well-known  and  highly-impassioned  passage  : — '  I 
do  not  enter  at  all  into  the  positive  evidence  for  the  truth  of 
the  Christian  revelation,. my  single  aim,  at  present,  being  to 
dispose  of  one  of  the  objections  which  is  conceived  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  it.  Let  me  suppose,  then,  that  this  is  done  to 
the  satisfaction  of  a  philosophical  inquirer  ;  and  that  the  evi- 
dence is  sustained  ;  and  that  the  same  mind  that  is  familiar- 
ized to  all  the  sublimities  of  natural  science,  and  has  been  in 
the  habit  of  contemplating  God  in  association  with  all  the 
magnificence  which  is  around  him,  shall  be  brought  to  sub- 
mit its  thoughts  to  the  captivity  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ. 
Oh  !  with  what  veneration,  and  gratitude,  and  wonder,  should 
we  look  on  the  descent  of  Him  into  this  lower  world,  who 
made  all  things,  and  without  whom  was  not  any  thing  made 
that  was  made.  What  a  grandeur  does  it  throw  over  every 
step,  in  the  redemption  of  a  fallen  world,  to  think  of  its  being 
done  by  Him  who  unrobed  Himself  of  the  glories  of  so  wide 
a  monarchy ;  and  came  to  this  humblest  of  its  provinces,  in 
the  disguise  of  a  servant ;  and  took  upon  Him  the  form  of 
our  degraded  species  ;  and  let  Himself  down  to  sorrows,  and 
to  sufferings,  and  to  death,  for  us.  In  this  love  of  a  dying_ 
Saviour  to  those  for  whom  in  agony  he  poured  out  his  soul, 
there  is  a  height,  and  a  depth,  and  a  length,  and  a  breadth, 
more  than  I  can  comprehend  ;  and  let  me  never,  never,  from 
this  moment,  neglect  so  great  a  salvation,  or  lose  my  hold  of 
an  atonement  made  sure  by  Him  who  cried  that  it  was 
finished,  and  brought  in  an  everlasting  righteousness.'* 
♦  Chalmers'  Astronomical  Sermons,  pp.  115-120. 


WONDERS    OF   THE    MICROSCOPE,  ETC.  149 

SIXTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

i      WONDERS    OF    THE   MICROSCOPE. INFUSORY    ANIMALCULES. 

Having  spoken  of  the  Avonders  of  the  microscopic  worldj 
as  a  proof  that  there  is  nothing  too  little  to  be  beneath  the 
care  of  the  universal  Father,  it  seems  desirable  to  follow  out 
this  statement  by  an  induction  of  particulars  ;  and  I  shall 
devote  this  paper  to  that  department  of  animated  nature 
which,  on  account  of  its  extreme  minuteness,  escapes  the 
human  vision,  unless  assisted  by  the  resources  of  art. 

The  microscope  has  revealed  to  human  observation  new 
races,  and  indeed  new  systems,  of  organized  and  living  beings, 
v/hose  existence,  had  it  not  been  for  the  invention  of  that 
instrument,  could  have  scarcely  been  suspected,  and  whose 
functions  must  have  been  entirely  unknown.  These  are  the 
most  numerous  of  all  terrestrial  creatures,  and  exhibit  pro- 
perties which  fill  the  mind  with  a  kind  of  wonder,  different 
from,  but  scarcely  inferior  to,  that  which  is  excited  by  the 
view  of  nature  on  the  largest  scale.  Although  they  are  so 
extremely  minute,  that  a  single  drop  of  water  may  contain 
hundreds  of  them,  and  yet  appear  to  the  naked  eye  as  pellu- 
cid  as  if  it  were  a  pure  and  simple  globule  of  newly  distilled 
dew,  they  are  discovered,  by  the  magnifying  power  of  the 
solar  microscope,  not  only  to  be  animated  beings,  but  to  pos- 
sess members,  some  of  them  formed  in  the  most  delicate  sym- 
metry, and  all  of  them  framed  with  consummate  art.  Their 
species  are  incalculably  numerous,  each  adapted  to  the  ele- 
ment which  it  occupies,  and  the  peculiar  sphere  in  which  it 
is  destined  to  move.  They  have  obviously  volitions,  feehngs, 
and  preferences,  like  the  superior  animals  ;  and,  like  them, 
they  display  symptoms  of  hatred  and  affection,  of  rapacity 
and  contentment,  of  enjoyment  and  suffering.  Here,  then,  is 
a  new  world  of  living  beings,  sufficiently  resembling  that  in 
which  we  are  ourselves  destined  to  exist,  to  prove  that  it  is 
the  work  of  the  very  same  Creator ;  yet,  as  we  shall  presently 

13* 


150  WONDERS   OF   THE   MICROSCOPE. 

see,  SO  different  in  many  respects,  besides  its  extreme  minute- 
ness, as  to  show,  still  more  distmctly,  the  inexhaustible  re- 
sources of  the  Divine  Mind,  in  the  endless  variety  of  created 
existences.  The  most  minute  of  those  animalcules  which 
have  been  studied  and  delineated,  are  the  infusory,  that  is, 
those  which  are  found  in  liquids  ;  and  to  these  we  shall  at 
present  confine  ourselves.  They  have  been  divided  into  two 
classes,  those  with  external  organs,  and  those  in  which  such 
org-ans  are  wanting.  Of  the  former,  seven  genera  have  been 
enumerated,  and  254  species :  of  the  latter,  ten  genera,  and 
123  species.  These,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted,  form  a  very 
small  part  of  the  actual  existences,  many  of  w^hich  are  so 
minute,  that  they  elude  the  action  of  the  most  powerful  mag- 
nifiers,— as  may  be  safely  inferred  from  the  fact,  that  new 
species,  descending  in  minuteness,  have  constantly  been  dis- 
covered, in  proportion  as  the  power  of  the  microscope  has 
been  increased. 

The  wonderful  diversity  of  shape  in  these  animalcules,  has 
been  thus  described  : — '  Let  one  suppose  himself  transported 
to  a  region,  where  the  appearance,  figure,  and  motion,  of 
every  animal  is  unknown,  and  he  will  form  some  idea  of  the 
variety  presented  by  a  drop  of  an  infusion,  observed  by 
means  of  the  microscope.  One  animalcule  is  a  long  slender 
line ;  another  is  coiled  up  like  an  eel  or  a  serpent ;  some  are 
circular,  elliptical,  or  globular  ;  others  a  triangle  or  a  cylin- 
der ;  some  resemble  thin  flat  plates ;  and  some  may  be  com- 
pared to  a  number  of  articulated  reeds  ;  one  is  like  a  funnel, 
and  another  like  a  bell ;  and  the  structure  of  many  cannot  be 
compared  to  any  object  familiar  to  our  senses.  Certain  ani- 
malcula,  such  as  the  proieus  diffiuens^  can  change  their  figure 
at  pleasure,  being  sometimes  extended  to  immoderate  length, 
and  then  contracted  to  a  point ;  one  moment  they  are  inflated 
into  a  sphere,  the  next  completely  flaccid,  and  then  various 
eminences  will  project  from  the  surface,  altering  them  appa- 
rently into  animals  entirely  different.  Neither  is  the  peculiar 
motion  of  animalcula  less  remarkable ;  in  several  species,  it 
consists  of   incessant  gyration   on  the  head  as  a  centre,  or 


INFUSORY    ANIMALCULES. 


151 


around  a  particular  point,  as  if  one  of  the  foci  of  an  ellipse ; 
the  progression  of  others  is  by  means  of  leaps  or  undulations ; 
some  swim  with  the  velocity  of  an  arrow,  and  the  eye  can 
scarcely  follow  them  ;  some  drag  their  unwieldy  bodies 
along  with  painful  exertion ;  and  others,  again,  seem  to  per- 
sist in  perpetual  rest.'* 

In  turning  to  the  organs  of  these  microscopic  animals,  we 
shall  find  equal  subject  for  admiration.  Some  take  their  food 
by  absorption,  being  destitute  of  a  mouth  :  others  have  a 
mouth,  and  several  stomachs,  amounting,  sometimes,  to  the 
remarkable  number  of  forty  or  fifty ;  some  are  without  eyes, 
others  have  several ;  some  have  mandibles,  and  others  have 
processes  resembling  eggs ;  while  many  have  their  mouths 
fringed  with  ray-like  bristles.  In  many  the  internal  struc- 
ture is  quite  peculiar,  in  others  it  bears  a  remarkable  analogy 
to  that  of  higher  species.  Each  class  has  its  own  particular 
food  ;  some  live  on  vegetable  substances,  others  are  preda- 
ceous,  and  others  again  seem  to  derive  their  nourishment  en- 
tirely from  absorbing  the  liquid  in  which  they  exist. 

Let  it  not  be  forgotten,  that  all  this  minute  organization, 
and  these  various  appetites,  habits,  and  motions,  belong  to 
existences  too  minute,  in  most  instances,  to  be  even  discerni- 
ble by  the  human  eye  ;  and  we  shall  find  it  almost  as  diffi- 
cult to  stretch  our  imagination  downAvards,  to  the  infinitely 
little  among  created  objects,  as  it  was  to  rise  to  the  contem- 
plation of  the  infinitely  great.  To  the  minute  subdivision  of 
matter  there  seems  to  be  no  conceivable  bounds.  This  is  not 
very  hard  to  admit ;  but,  to  be  compelled  to  believe  that  the 
most  minute  particle  which  our  fancy  can  frame  is  an  organ- 
ized and  living  being, — that  it  has  a  complex  system  of 
members,  each  of  which  is  most  skilfully  fitted  for  its  pecu 
liar  functions, — that  the  processes  of  digestion,  of  nutrition, 
and  of  reproduction,  are  carried  on  in  these  invisible  particles 
with  equal  perfection  as  in  our  own  bodies, — that  they  have 


•  Edinburgh  Encyclopedia,  article  Animalcule,  written  by  Dalzell,  the 
translator  of  Spallanzani. 


152  WONDERS    OF   THE   MICROSCOPE. 

instincts,  and  habits,  and  powers  of  choice  and  of  enjoyment. 
— all  this  appears  so  amazing,  that  the  mind  can  scarcely 
yield  itself  to  the  belief  And,  yet,  why  should  it  not  ?  All 
magnitude  and  quantity  are  relative.  We  judge  of  them 
merely  by  the  measure  of  our  own  experience ;  and,  if  we 
could  but  sufficiently  disengage  our  minds  to  take  an  abstract 
view,  we  would  perceive  that  there  is,  in  reality,  nothing 
more  incredible  in  the  subdivision  and  organization  of  what 
appears  to  us  infinitely  minute,  than  in  the  construction  of 
the  animals  Avith  which  our  senses  are  conversant. 

Yet  what  an  amazing  view  is  opened  to  us,  of  the  Creator, 
and  his  infinitely  diversified  works !  The  exclamation  of 
Pliny,  with  regard  to  insects,  may,  with  peculiar  emphasis, 
be  applied  to  the  wonders  of  the  microscopic  world  : — In  his 
tarn  parvis^  atque  tarn  7iullis,  qua  ratio,  quanta  vis,  quam 
inextricabUis  peifeciio!  It  may  be  difficult  to  determine  to 
what  extent,  or  even  in  what  manner,  these  innumerable 
myriads  of  invisible  beings  produce  a  salutary  effect  on  the 
visible  world  ;  but  we  may  be  sure  that  it  was  not  without  a 
benevolent  object  that  they  were  every  where  scattered  over 
the  world.  Like  the  larvae  of  certain  insects,  they  probably 
act  the  important  part  of  scavengers,  in  removing  nuisances 
from  the  liquids  in  which  they  live,  and  preserving  in  them 
a  healthy  action.  At  all  events,  besides  enjoying,  as  they 
doubtless  do,  a  kind  of  happiness  in  themselves,  they  furnish 
food  to  animals  of  a  somewhat  higher  species,  while  these, 
again,  afford  support  to  animals  still  higher  in  the  scale,  and 
so  on,  through  all  the  gradations  of  animated  beings, — one 
species  preying  upon  another,  and  thus,  by  a  mysterious  ar- 
rangement, increasing  the  quantity  of  living  creatures,  through 
an  increase  of  their  means  of  subsistence.  It  is  truly  wonder- 
ful to  observe  the  wise  contrivances  by  which  life  is  sustain- 
ed,  in  all  its  forms.  First,  from  the  crude  earth  springs  the 
vegetable  by  which  food  is  elaborated  for  living  creatures : 
and  then  follow  the  countless  hosts  of  invisibles,  which  prey 
on  these,  or  their  infusions,  and  on  one  another ;  and  then 
rising  through   numerous  grades,  in   a  thousand    different 


PLANTS    AND    ANIMALS    COMPARED,  153 

forms,  and  with  continually  varying  faculties  and  habits, 
come  the  various  orders  of  sentient  beings,  which  fill  and 
adorn  the  visible  creation,  deriving  their  food,  like  their  mi- 
croscopic fellow-creatures,  some  directly  from  the  vegetable 
kingdom,  others  from  the  bodies  of  animals  which  have  died 
a  natural  death,  and  others  again  by  the  destruction  of  living 
creatures.  Such  is  the  law  of  existence,  exhibiting  the  clear- 
est evidence  of  wise  contrivance,  but  yet  marked  in  this,  as 
well  as  in  other  particulars,  Avith  the  peculiar  character  be- 
longing to  a  world  blighted  with  a  curse. 


SIXTH   WEEK— TUESDAY. 

I.    PLANTS    AND    ANIMALS    COMPARED. 

It  is  my  intention  now  to  devote  some  papers  to  the  con- 
sideration of  what  has  been  called  the  hyhernation  of  plants 
and  animals;  but,  before  entering  on  this  subject,  I  shall 
make  a  few  observations  on  some  of  the  general  characters 
in  which  vegetables  and  animals  bear  a  mutual  resemblance, 
and  of  others  in  which  they  differ.  Such  an  examination  is 
not  only  curious  in  itself,  and  satisfactory,  as  illustrating  the 
remarkable  unity  of  design  which  exists  in  creation,  but  use- 
ful to  our  purpose,  as  forming  a  proper  introduction  to  the 
various  particulars  which  I  shall  afterwards  have  to  inves- 
tigate. 

The  first  and  most  important  resemblance  between  plants 
and  animals,  consists  in  their  possessing  what  has  been  called 
a  living  principle.  This  constitutes  the  chief  difference  be- 
tween organized  and  unorganized  existences  ;  and  it  is  only 
while  it  exists  in  the  former,  that  these  exhibit  the  other  qual- 
ities by  which  they  are  distinguished  from  brute  matter. 
What  this  living  principle  is,  it  may  be  impossible  tp  say ; 
but  that  it  is  something  which  possesses  distinct  properties, 
and  performs  peculiar  functions,  the  most  ignorant  are  aware. 
An  animal  breathes,  and  moves,  and  feels,  and  performs  car- 


154  PLANTS    AND    ANIMALS    COMPARED. 

tain  actions  for  a  time :  this  is  animal  life.  It  then  ceases 
to  show  any  of  these  properties ;  it  lies  motionless  and  insen- 
sible ;  it  undergoes  rapid  decomposition,  and  is  resolved  into 
its  original  elements :  this  is  death.  And  something  analo- 
gous to  this  takes  place  in  plants.  The  living  principle  ap- 
pears, indeed,  under  a  different  and  less  perfect  modification; 
but  still  it  is  there.  Although  vegetable  existences  have  no 
voluntary  motion,  they  yet  possess  certain  vital  functions  ; 
they  select  and  secrete  their  food ;  they  grow ;  they  expand 
and  flourish:  this  is  vegetable  life.  After  a  time,  these 
functions  cease ;  they  droop,  decay,  and  are  decomposed 
their  life  is  fled. 

Both  in  animals  and  vegetables  the  principle  of  life  is  en- 
dowed, or  at  least  connected,  with  a  power  of  repairing  inju- 
ries to  a  certain  extent,  so  as  to  reproduce  decayed  or  destroy 
ed  parts.  In  both,  also,  there  exists  a  power  of  reproducing 
the  species.  Nor  is  the  similarity  less  remarkable  in  regard 
to  a  property,  the  existence  of  which,  m  vegetables,  was,  till 
lately,  but  little  known, — I  mean  the  circulation  of  a  fluid 
through  every  part  of  the  body.  That  the  blood  circulated 
throuo-h  the  veins  of  animals,  was  a  fact  which  could  never 
escape  observation,  although  the  principle  on  which  this  re- 
markable function  depended,  was  but  lately  discovered  ;  but 
it  does  not  seem  to  have  been  suspected,  till  within  these  few 
years,  that  there  was  an  analogous  circulation  through  vege- 
table substances.  That  sap  existed  in  plants,  indeed,  was  a 
familiar  fact,  and  even  that  it  was  to  be  found  in  greater  pro- 
fusion at  one  season  than  at  another ;  but  what  now  appears 
to  be  satisfactorily  ascertained  was  not  till  a  recent  date  even 
suspected,  namely,  that  there  is  a  regular  and  periodical  cir- 
culation of  the  sap  from  the  root,  through  the  stem  of  the 
plant,  to  the  branches,  buds,  and  leaves,  and  back  again 
through  the  bark  to  the  root ;  and  that  this  circulation  is  as 
essentially  necessary  to  the  life  and  growth  of  vegetables, 
as  the  circulation  of  the  blood  is  to  the  life  and  growth  of 
animals. 

In  the  manner  of  propagating  the  species,  too,  there  are 
8* 


PLANTS   AND   ANIMALS   COMPARED.  155 

some  curious  resemblances  between  the  vegetable  and  animal 
creation.  Besides  that  the  whole  classes  of  plants,  like  ani- 
mals, with  few  exceptions,  are  divided  into  male  and  female, 
there  is  another  resemblance,  which  will  scarcely  be  consid- 
ered fanciful.  All  the  winged  tribes,  and  most  of  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  sea,  as  well  as  amphibious  animals,  reproduce 
the  species  by  means  of  eggs.  In  like  manner,  the  whole 
races  of  plants,  from  the  moss  to  the  tree,  with  scarcely  any 
exception,  propagate  their  species  by  means  of  seeds,  which, 
in  many  remarkable  particulars,  deserve  the  name  of  vege- 
table eggs. 

Animals  seem  to  differ  essentially  from  the  vegetable 
kingdom,  in  the  possession  of  sensibility, — a  property  which 
the  Author  of  Nature  has  apparently  denied  to  the  latter. 
This  quality  forms  the  first  step  in  the  scale,  by  which  the 
former  rises  above  the  latter ;  but,  as  it  has  pleased  the  Al- 
mighty to  cause  the  various  grades  of  existences  to  run,  as  it 
were,  into  each  other,  we  see  here,  also,  a  connecting  link  of 
the  chain,  in  the  wonderful  properties  of  the  sensitive  plant, 
with  which  most  of  my  readers  are  probably  familiar,  which, 
as  it  were,  simulates  sensibility,  and  approaches  so  near  this 
vital  principle,  that  authors  who  delight  in  those  theories 
which  aim  at  confounding  the  distinctions  that  subsist  among 
organized  existences,  have  plausibly  maintained  the  identity 
of  the  one  with  the  other. 

I  have  said  that  plants  as  well  as  animals  select  and  se- 
crete their  food  ;  but  there  is  a  marked  difference  both  in  the 
nature  of  the  food,  and  in  the  process  by  which  this  nourish- 
ment is  conveyed  and  appropriated.  The  vegetable,  adher- 
ing to  the  soil,  draws  its  food  from  thence,  through  the  me- 
dium of  roots,  by  mechanical  action,  without  volition,  with- 
out feeling,  and  without  locomotion ;  and  that  food  is  inor- 
ganic matter.  The  animal,  on  the  contrary,  seeks  for  its 
food  by  a  voluntary  action,  receives  it  into  its  system  by  a 
mouth,  digests  it  in  a  stomach,  and  rejects  crudities  by  an 
intestinal  canal.  Its  food  is  organized  matter,  either  animal 
or  vegetable ;  the  Creator  having  appointed  the  nourishment 


166  HYBERNATION    OF    PLANTS. 

of  this  superior  cJass  to  be  elaborated  from  crude  and  indigest- 
ible materials  by  the  organized,  indeed,  but  insentient  cre- 
ation below  them.  This  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  that  aston- 
ishmg  gradation  of  beings  with  which  the  world  is  stored,  and 
cannot  but  be  contemplated  with  admiration  and  gratitude. 
The  view  Avhich  is  presented  to  us,  even  on  the  most  cur- 
sory contemplation  of  organized  matter,  as  may  be  perceived 
from  these  remarks,  is  that  of  a  comprehensive  whole,  united 
together  with  the  most  consummate  wisdom,  and  beautifully 
harmonizing  in  all  its  parts ;  and  this  impression  will  be 
found  to  be  mightily  confirmed  and  strengthened,  when  we 
come  to  consider  the  details. 


SIXTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

II,    HYBERNATION  OF  PLANTS. ADJUSTMENT    OF  THE   CONSTITU- 
TION   OF    PLANTS   TO    THE    ANNUAL    CYCLE. 

From  what  has  been  already  said,  it  appears  that  the  chilly 
nature  of  the  season  is  not  the  only  cause  of  the  changes  in 
the  vegetable  kingdom,  which  begin  in  autumn,  and  are 
consummated  in  winter.  The  disappearance  of  flowers  and 
fruits,  the  fall  of  the  leaf,  and  the  general  sterility  which 
prevails,  are  evidently  the  indications  of  a  cycle,  belonging 
to  the  constitution  of  this  department  of  nature,  which  cor- 
responds with  the  cycle  of  the  year,  and  affords  by  its  exist- 
ence, a  new  proof  of  wise  adaptation.  The  effects  produced 
by  the  sudden  occurrence  of  a  tract  of  frosty  and  tempestuous 
weather  in  summer,  compared  with  a  similar  occurrence  in 
winter,  have  been  elsewhere  alluded  to,  as  illustrative  of  this 
principle.  But  a  thousand  other  illustrations  might  be 
given.  There  is  something  exceedingly  interesting  and  in- 
structive in  this  view  of  the  subject.  The  nice  adjustment 
of  organic  substances  to  climate,  has  already  been  slightly 
noticed  ;  and,  were  this  inquiry  to  be  followed  out  in  detail, 
it  could  not  fail  to  afford  conclusive  evidence  of  the  same 


ADJUSTMENT  OF  THE  ANNUAL  CYCLE.         157 

kind  of  contrivance  with  that  to  which  wc  are  now  advert- 
ing. Every  where  we  should  find  the  productions  of  the 
soil  admirably  adapted  to  their  localities,  as  to  nourishment 
and  climate  ;  and,  in  the  physical  distribution  of  plants,  we 
should  discover  new  grounds  for  adoring  the  perfections  of 
the  Creator.  The  most  superficial  comparison  of  the  plants 
of  tropical  regions  with  those  of  the  polar  circle,  would  be 
sufficient  for  this  purpose.  In  the  diminutive  wipetrum  ni- 
grum, with  its  well-flavoured  berries,  which  forms  probably 
the  last  link  of  the  descending  chain  of  fruits  in  our  progress 
to  the  poles,  we  observe  the  same  careful  adaptation  of  vege- 
tation to  the  circumstances  of  external  nature,  which  forces 
itself  on  our  view  in  the  majestic  and  luxuriant  productions 
of  the  equator. 

In  the  extremes  of  climate,  taken  on  the  average,  we  have 
as  it  were  permanent  summer  on  the  one  hand,  and  perma- 
nent winter  on  the  other  ;  but,  in  the  temperate  regions,  we 
have  a  regular  alternation  of  modified  heat  and  cold,  which 
requires  a  different  constitution  of  the  vegetable  creation  ; 
and  that  constitution  has  been  bestowed.  We  here  find  the 
gradual  developement  of  seeds,  and  shooting  forth  of  buds 
and  leaves,  in  spring  ;  the  vigour  and  prime  of  vegetation  in 
summer  ;  its  maturity  and  commencing  decay  in  autumn  ; 
its  temporary  death  in  winter.  Now,  what  deserves  to  be 
peculiarly  remarked  in  this,  is  the  adjusted  correspondence 
of  this  annual  revolution  in  plants,  to  the  precise  circum- 
stances of  the  character  and  duration  of  the  seasons. 

That  the  stimulants  of  heat  and  cold  exercise  a  considera- 
ble influence  in  promoting  or  retarding  the  periodical 
changes  in  the  vegetable  world,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  and 
this,  indeed,  is  just  one  of  those  wise  contrivances  which  in- 
dicate design,  as,  without  this  modifying  power,  a  slight  vari- 
ation in  the  temperature  of  the  season,  such  as  frequently 
takes  place  in  all  countries,  and  especially  in  a  changeable 
climate  like  ours,  might  be  productive  of  fatal  effects  ;  but 
the  influence  of  heat  and  cold  does  not  extend  beyond  a  cer- 
tain range,  and  is  undoubtedly  controlled,  as  we  have  said 

VOL.  IV.  14 


158  HYBERNATION    OF    PLANTS. 

by  another  principle,  which  we  have  called  the  natural  con- 
stitution  of  plants.  If  proof  of  this  were  wanting,  we  should 
find  it  in  the  fact,  that  fruit  trees,  for  example,  when  trans- 
planted from  our  notrhern  temperate  zone  to  that  of  the  south, 
where  the  seasons  are  reversed,  continue  to  flourish  for  sev- 
eral years  in  the  winter  months  of  these  regions ;  and,  for 
the  same  reason,  plants  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and 
from  Australia,  transplanted  to  our  climate,  preserve  their  ac- 
customed period  of  blooming,  notwithstanding  the  influence 
of  an  altered  climate.  Of  this  the  heaths  of  those  countries, 
which  bloom  in  the  most  rigorous  season  of  the  year,  may  be 
taken  as  a  familiar  example. 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  functions  of  plants  have  a  period- 
ical character,  entirely  independent  of  heat  and  cold.  Such 
stimulants  could  not  produce  the  effects  which  actually  take 
place,  were  not  the  plants  formed  by  the  Author  of  Nature 
to  run  their  annual  cycle.  Now,  let  it  be  observed,  that  a 
year  might,  by  possibility,  be  of  any  length.  Instead  of  ex- 
tending to  twelve  months  it  might  be  completed  in  six,  and 
all  the  seasons  might  be  comprised  in  that  period,  or  its  revo- 
lution might  be  lengthened  to  double,  or  fourfold  its  present 
period.  In  either  case,  the  adjustment  which  now  takes 
place  between  the  seasons  and  the  constitution  of  plants, 
would  be  entirely  destroyed,  and  an  utter  derangement  of  the 
vegetable  world  would  take  place.  '  The  processes  of  the 
rising  of  the  sap,'  says  Mr.  Whewell, '  of  the  formation  of 
proper  juices,  the  unfolding  of  leaves,  the  opening  of  flow- 
ers, the  fecundation  of  the  fruit,  the  ripening  of  the  seed,  its 
proper  deposition  in  order  for  the  reproduction  of  a  new 
plant, — all  these  operations  require  a  certain  portion  of  time, 
which  could  not  be  compressed  into  a  less  space  than  a  year, 
or  at  least  could  not  be  abbreviated  in  any  very  great  degree. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  winter  were  greatly  longer 
than  it  now  is,  many  seeds  would  not  germinate  at  the  return 
of  spring.' 

'  Now,  such  an  adjustment,'  adds  this  author, '  must  surely 
be  accepted  as  a  proof  of  design  exercised  in  the  formation 


ADJUSTMENT    OF   THE    ANNUAL    CYCLE.  159 

of  the  world.  Why  should  the  solar  year  be  so  long-,  and 
no  longer?  Or,  this  being  of  such  a  length,  why  should  the 
vegetable  cycle  be  exactly  of  the  same  length  1  Can  this  be 
chance  ?  And  this  occurs,  be  it  observed,  not  in  one,  or  in  a 
few  species  of  plants,  but  in  thousands.  Take  a  small  por- 
tion only  of  known  species,  as  the  most  obviously  endowed 
with  this  adjustment,  and  say  ten  thousand.  How  should  all 
these  organized  bodies  be  constructed  for  the  same  period  of 
the  year  ?  How  should  all  these  machines  be  wound  up  so 
as  to  go  for  the  same  time  ?  Even  allowing  that  they  could 
bear  a  year  of  a  month  longer  or  shorter,  how  do  they  all 
come  within  such  limits  ?  No  chance  could  produce  such  a 
result  ;  and,  if  not  by  chance,  how  otherwise  could  such  a 
coincidence  occur,  than  by  an  intentional  adjustment  of  these 
two  things  to  one  another  ? — by  a  selection  of  such  an  orga- 
nization in  plants,  as  would  fit  them  to  the  earth  on  which 
they  were  to  grow  ;  by  an  adaptation  of  construction  to  con- 
ditions ;  of  the  scale  of  the  construction  to  the  scale  of  condi- 
tions.'* 

The  concluding  paragraph  of  the  chapter  from  which  we 
have  just  quoted,  which  carries  the  view  of  adjustment  be- 
tween organized  existences  and  the  annual  cycle  still  farther, 
is  also  well  worthy  of  being  quoted :  '  The  same  kind  of  ar- 
gument might  be  applied  to  the  animal  creation.  The  pair- 
ing, nesting,  hatching,  fledging,  and  flight  of  birds,  for  in- 
stance, occupy  each  its  peculiar  time  of  the  year ;  and,  to- 
gether with  a  proper  period  of  rest,  fill  up  the  twelve  months. 
The  transformations  of  most  insects  have  a  similar  reference 
to  the  seasons,  their  progress  and  duration.  "  In  every  spe- 
cies except  man,"  says  a  writerf  on  animals,  "  there  is  a  par- 
ticular period  of  the  year  in  which  the  reproductive  system 
exercises  its  energies.  And  the  season  of  love,  and  the  period 
of  gestation  are  so  arranged  that  the  young  ones  are  produ- 
ced at  the  time  wherein  the  conditions  of  temperature  are  most 
suited  to  the  commencement  of  life."     It  is  not  our  business 

♦  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  pp.  28,  29. 
i  Fleming's  Zool.  i.  400. 


160  HYBERNATION     OF     PLANTS. 

here  to  settle  the  details  of  such 'provisions,  beautiful  and  strik- 
ing as  they  are.  But  the  prevalence  of  the  great  law  of  pe- 
riodicity in  the  vital  functions  of  organized  beings,  will  be 
allowed  to  have  a  claim  to  be  considered  in  its  reference  to 
astronomy,  when  it  is  seen  that  their  periodical  constitution 
derives  its  use  from  the  periodical  motions  of  the  planets 
round  the  sun  ;  and  that  the  duration  of  such  cycles  in  the 
existence  of  plants  and  animals,  has  a  reference  to  the  arbi- 
trary elements  of  the  solar  system, — a  reference  which  we 
maintain  is  inexplicable  and  unintelligible,  except  by  admit- 
ting into  our  conceptions  an  Intelligent  Author  alike  of  the 
organic  and  inorganic  universe-' 


SIXTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

m.     HYBERNATION     OF     PLANTS. PHYSIOLOGICAL     CONDITION     OF 

PLANTS    DURING    WINTER. 

The  beautiful  variety  of  shades  in  our  woods  and  groves,  to- 
wards the  close  of  autumn,  which  the  most  inattentive  obser- 
ver must  have  admired,  arises  from  the  preparation  which  na- 
ture is  making  for  the  winter  state  of  our  shrubs  and  trees.  The 
functions  of  the  productive  seasons  are  ended  ;  the  forest  trees 
have  completed  their  annual  growth  ;  the  fruit-bearing  trees 
have  yielded  their  stores  ;  and  the  leaves,  which  performed 
such  an  important  part  in  these  processes,  being  no  longer 
useful,  are  to  be  dropped,  that  they  may,  by  mingling  with 
their  parent  earth,  supply  the  waste  of  the  vegetable  soil  and 
repair  its  exhaustion  from  the  efforts  of  the  preceding  year. 
The  sap  which  had  arisen  profusel3^  in  the  beginning  of  au- 
tumn, to  aid  nature  in  giving  maturity  to  the  fruits,  and  vig- 
our to  the  young  branches,  and  thus  to  crown  the  labours  of 
the  year,  having  performed  this  important  office,  has  begun 
to  flow  downwards  through  the  inner  integuments  of  the  bark, 
thus  completing  its  periodical  circulation.  The  leaf  and 
flower-bud,  destined  to  be  developed  in  the  ensuing  spring, 


PHYSIOLOGICAL    CONDITION.  161 

•have  been  already  formed,  and  are  carefully  shut  up  in  their 
winter  cerements.  The  tree  exposed  naked  to  the  wintry 
blast,  is  rendered,  by  a  wonderful  provision  of  the  All-wise 
Creator,  proof  against  the  injurious  effects  of  frost.  It  is  in 
its  state  of  hybernation,  like  many  beasts  and  insects ;  for  here, 
too,  the  analogy  of  nature  is  striking, — it  has  fallen  into  its 
winter  sleep. 

The  proofs  of  this  state  of  torpidity  are  numerous  and  in- 
teresting. Among  these,  the  most  familiar  is  that  of  the  ca- 
pability of  removal  without  material  injury,  to  another  place. 
There  is  no  size  or  age  of  a  tree  which  would  prevent  it  from 
enduring  transportation,  at  this  season,  with  perfect  safety, 
provided  only  it  could  be  effected  without  greatly  injuring 
the  root ;  and  it  is  only  in  winter  that  such  an  experiment 
can  be  performed  with  any  chance  of  success.  Why  ?  Be- 
cause the  powers  of  nature  are  then  suspended.  The  plant 
has  ceased  to  draw  nourishment  from  the  earth,  and  its  vital 
principle,  though  by  no  means  extinguished,  is  in  a  state  of 
temporary  lethargy. 

Now,  the  importance  of  this  state  of  plants,  in  winter,  will 
be  obvious,  if  we  consider  the  condition  of  the  soil  and  cli- 
mate of  temperate  regions,  during  that  period.  The  genial 
warmth  which  caused  the  juices  to  flow  is  gone  ;  the  ground 
is  frequently  rendered,  by  frost,  rigid  and  almost  impenetra- 
ble ;  tempestuous  weather  would  threaten  the  destruction 
even  of  firmly-rooted  trees,  did  not  the  removal  of  the  leaves 
admit  a  free  passage  to  the  wind  through  the  branches  ;  the 
cold  would- blast  the  dehcate  fibre  of  the  growing  shoot.  All 
these  dangers  are  either  entirely  provided  against,  or  at  least 
rendered  by  no  means  formidable,  by  the  torpidity  which  in- 
vades the  vegetable  creation.  The  plant  still  lives,  but  its 
food  is  gone  ;  its  active  operations  would  expose  it  to  be  the 
sport  of  the  angry  elements,  and  therefore  it  has  retired  with- 
in itself,  like  the  coiled  hedgehog,  to  sleep  out  the  ungenial 
season,  and  to  prepare,  with  new  vigour,  for  the  exercise  of 
its  renovated  powers  in  the  coming  spring. 

Much  less  is  known  of  the  physiology  of  plants,  than  the 
14* 


162  HYBERNATION    OP    PLANTS. 

interesting  nature  of  the  subject  would  lead  us  to  desire  ;  but 
there  is  one  circumstance  connected  with  their  state  in  win- 
ter, which  is  too  curious  to  be  overlooked.  The  vital  princi- 
ple, whatever  it  may  be,  exerts  a  peculiar  energy  in  defend- 
ing them  from  the  influence  of  frost.  A  very  simple  experi- 
ment, within  the  power  of  every  person,  will  show  this.  Let 
a  bud  be  cut  off  from  the  parent  tree,  and  suspended,  during 
a  strong  frost,  either  by  a  string,  or  even  within  a  glass  ves- 
sel, upon  one  of  the  branches,  and  it  will  be  found  that  this 
severed  bud  will  be  completely  frozen  through,  while  all  the 
buds  still  attached  to  the  tree,  are  entirely  unaffected  by  the 
cold.  There  is,  then,  a  living  power  in  plants,  which,  of  it- 
self, resists,  to  a  considerable  extent,  the  effects  of  cold.  But 
the  Author  of  Nature  does  not  rest  the  security  of  vegetable 
productions  on  this  principle  ; — on  the  contrary,  the  safety  of 
the  bud,  on  which  the  future  existence  of  the  plant  so  mate- 
rially depends,  is  provided  for  by  its  careful  envelopment  in 
plies  of  scales,  or  within  a  downy  substance,  besides  being 
often  united  together  by  a  coat  of  resinous  matter,  of  which 
latter  state  the  horse-chestnut  furnishes  a  familiar  example. 
The  intention  of  this  kind  of  protection  is  distinctly  indicated 
by  the  fact,  that  it  occurs  only  in  northern  countries,  the  buds 
of  trees  in  milder  regions  being  destitute  of  the  scaly  cover- 
ing. The  security  from  injury,  which  the  resinous  coat  af- 
fords, may  be  proved  by  a  simple  experiment.  Let  a  bud  of 
this  kind  be  taken  from  the  tree,  and,  sealing  up  the  cut  end, 
let  it  be  plunged  into  water  ;  and  in  this  state  it  may  be  kept 
uninjured  for  several  years.  In  tropical  regions,  the  leaf  or 
flower  not  requiring  any  such  means  of  safety,  starts  into  ex- 
istence at  once,  without  the  intervention  of  buds, — another 
proof  of  the  designing  hand  of  Nature  in  this  provision. 

We  have  mentioned  the  power  possessed  by  plants,  in  a 
living  state,  of  resisting  the  effects  of  cold  ;  and  this  fact  has 
led  some  physiologists  to  conceive,  that  an  internal  heat  is 
generated  in  plants,  as  it  is  in  the  animal  frame.  The  ex- 
periments, however,  which  have  been  made  to  test  this  opin- 
ion, have  been  of  somewhat  doubtful  result,  though  some  cu- 


PHYSIOLOGICAL    CONDITION.  163 

rious  facts  have  been  adduced  in  confirmation  of  it.  It  is  well 
known,  for  example,  that  snow  dissolves  more  quickly  in  a 
meadow  than  on  bare  ground  ;  and  this  has,  with  apparent 
force,  been  attributed  to  the  existence  of  a  slight  degree  of 
heat  in  the  vegetation.  In  certain  states  of  some  plants,  it  has 
been  ascertained,  that  heat  is  evolved.  M.  Hubert  relates  a 
striking  example  of  this  kind,  in  the  spadices  of  a  Madagas- 
car plant, — the  arum  cm'difolium.  On  applying  a  thermometer 
to  five  spadices,  which  had  unfolded  in  the  preceding  night, 
he  observed  a  rise  of  25°  from  the  temperature  of  the  atmos- 
phere. The  temperature  became  gradually  lower,  till,  in  the 
evening  of  the  second  day,  the  difference  between  the  heat 
of  the  spadices  and  of  the  surrounding  atmosphere,  was  only 
7°.  The  observation  which  we  have  recorded  above,  of  the 
power  of  living  buds  to  resist  frost,  Wildenow  extends  to  the 
sap  of  trees,  which,  he  says,  will  remain  unfrozen  in  very  in- 
tense cold.  The  case,  however,  is  different,  as  he  informs  us, 
in  plants  of  warm  and  hot  regions.  The  sap  of  these  plants 
congeals  on  a  very  slight  cold,  and  the  plants  themselves  de- 
cay ;  which  shows  a  very  remarkable  difference  between 
tropical  plants  and  those  of  colder  climates,  and  strikingly  in- 
dicates intention.  Another  observation  is,  that,  although  the 
sap  will  not  congeal  in  winter,  yet,  after  the  buds  have  been 
forced  out  by  warm  weather  in  spring,  it  will  readily  con- 
geal on  exposure  to  cold, — an  effect  which  Dr.  Smith  ascribes 
to  '  the  increased  susceptibility  of  the  vital  principle,'  at  that 
season.  Dead  or  diseased  branches,  too,  are  said  to  be  more 
liable  to  be  frost-bitten  than  living  and  sound  ones.  These 
facts,  though  not  conclusive,  seem  to  give  probability  to  the 
opinion,  that  the  degree  of  heat  necessary  to  the  support  of  vege- 
table life,  in  winter,  is  maintained  by  natural  processes  going  on 
in  the  plant  itself  But,  whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  such 
an  opinion,  the  facts  themselves  are  sufficient  to  show  the  im- 
press of  an  intelligent  Cause,  in  this,  as  in  every  other  de- 
partment of  organized  matter.  We  may  not  be  able  satisfac- 
torily to  trace  all  the  various  steps  of  the  process,  but  we  are 
able  confidently  to  say,  Here,  too,  is  the  hand  of  God. 


164  HYBERNATION    OF   PLANTS. 


SIXTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

TV.    HYBERNATION    OF    PLANTS. THEIR    PHYSIOLOGICAL    CON- 
DITION   CONTINUED. 

We  have  already  seen  some  of  the  provisions  made  for  the 
preservation,  during  this  inclement  season,  of  plants  of  larger 
gi'owth,  which  are  exposed,  leafless,  and  bare,  to  all  the  se- 
verity of  a  chilling  atmosphere ;  but  there  are  other  provis- 
ions for  a  similar  purpose,  which  are  no  less  admirable. 
One  reason,  as  we  have  already  hinted,  why  trees  of  great 
dimensions  throw  off  their  summer  clothing  of  leaves,  is,  that 
they  may  more  readily  resist  the  force  of  the  winds,  which 
frequently  blow  with  fury  in  the  winter.  But  there  are  some 
trees  which  are  not  endowed  with  this  property;  among 
these,  the  pine  tribes  ^-e  the  most  common  and  conspicuous. 
Now,  remark  the  contrivances  by  which  the  difficulty  arising 
from  such  a  deviation  is  met.  In  the  first  place,  the  leaves, 
if  they  deserve  that  name,  instead  of  being  broad  and  flat,  like 
those  of  other  trees,  are  rather  in  the  form  of  bristles, — which 
shape  suffers  the  wind  to  pass  freely  through,  and  offers  the 
smallest  resistance ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  the  roots  of 
this  class  of  trees  are  spread  widely  along  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  laying  fast  hold  of  the  soil,  as  they  intertwine  among 
each  other,  and  insert  their  numerous  fibres  ;  by  which  con- 
trivance they  are  able  to  stand  firm  upon  their  extended  base, 
easily  resisting  the  force  of  all  ordinary  tempests.  This  fact 
must  have  struck  the  mind  of  any  one,  who  has  happened  to 
observe  the  great  breadth  of  earth  and  of  roots  attached  to  a 
fir-tree  overthrown  by  some  furious  storm. 

There  is  a  remark,  of  a  more  general  nature,  which  occurs 
here.  All  trees  are  known  to  attach  their  roots  to  the  soil, 
with  more  or  less  tenacity,  in  proportion  to  their  exposure  to 
the  wind.  There  is  nothing  more  familiar  to  the  wood-for- 
ester than  thi^  striking  fact,  or  more  necessary  for  him  to 
know.     The  trees,  on  the  outside  of  a  grove  or  wood  of  pine, 


PHYSIOLOGICAL   CONDITION.  165 

are  so  firmly  fixed  in  the  soil,  that  scarcely  any  tempest  can 
uproot  them  ;  and  those  shelter  the  rest,  whose  hold  is  not  so 
secure.  Were  this  outer  ring  to  be  cut  down,  the  wind,  thus 
suddenly  let  in,  would  be  sure  to  injure  the  rest,  and  the  safe- 
ty of  the  whole  wood  might  be  endangered.  Here  we  find 
an  instance  of  adaptation  to  circumstances,  which  cannot  be 
too  much  admired. 

Other  kinds  of  evergreens,  which  enliven  the  winter 
months,  are  to  be  found  among  shrubs,  and  some  of  the  low- 
er species  of  trees.  These  are  more  able  to  resist  the  fury  of 
violent  winds,  on  account  of  their  diminutive  height,  which 
exposes  a  shorter,  and  therefore  less  powerful  lever  to  the 
action  of  this  force,  while  their  roots  are  equally  adapted, 
with  those  of  the  pine,  to  the  peculiarities  of  their  nature. 
Besides  this,  the  leaves  of  these  hardy  plants  are  generally 
of  a  solid  texture,  and  glossy  surface,  well  suited  to  resist  the 
various  vicissitudes  of  the  season.  Such  delightful  varieties 
seem  to  have  been  bestowed  on  us,  for  the  purpose  of  afford- 
ing relief  from  the  stern  aspect  of  winter  ;  and  the  grounds 
of  the  rich  show  how  well  a  judicious  use  of  these,  and  of 
various  herbaceous  plants,  can  throw,  over  the  bleakness  of 
this  gloomy  season,  some  of  the  charms  of  summer. 

If,  from  shrubs  and  trees,  we  turn  to  the  numerous  and 
useful  classes  of  herbs,  we  shall  find  ourselves  introduced  into 
a  new  field  of  wonders.  Some  of  these  only  survive  till  they 
have  shed  their  seed  in  autumn  ;  and,  having  thus  provided 
for  the  propagation  of  their  species,  perish  as  individuals,  and 
mingle  with  their  parent  earth, — resembling,  in  this  respect, 
many  species  of  insects.  But  others  survive  the  winter  ;  and 
of  these,  many  die  down  to  the  root,  and  thus,  like  numerous 
animals,  burrow,  as  it  were,  under  ground,  where,  in  virtue 
of  their  combined  torpidity  and  vital  energy,  they  remain  se- 
cure from  the  attacks  of  frost,  even  when  it  penetrates  to  their 
retreats.  Here  some  of  them  are  secretly  preparing,  by  mys- 
terious internal  processes,  for  the  coming  spring ;  while  oth- 
ers appear  to  lie  entirely  dormant,  till  more  genial  weather 
awake  them  from  their  deep  sleep.     Again,  other  classes  of 


166  HYBERNATION    OF    PLANTS. 

herbaceous  plants  continue  to  breathe  the  rigours  of  winter 
cheering  our  otherwise  desolate  gardens  and  fields  with  their 
languid  smile,  and  expanding  their  blossoms,  or  stretching 
their  green  leaves  from  soil  bound  in  the  iron  fetters  of 
ice,  or  covered  with  a  cold  but  bright  mantle  of  snow.  Of 
those  species  which  survive  the  winter,  some  are  biennial, 
and  others  perennial ;  and  of  the  former  species,  it  has  been 
remarked,  that,  though  their  life  may  be  prolonged  by  trans- 
planting them,  and  thus  retarding  the  period  of  flowering  and 
bearing  seed,  yet  no  artificial  means  can  prevent  their  decay, 
after  they  have  provided  for  the  future  propagation  of  their 
species,  by  exercising  this  important  function. 

Cowper,  with  his  usual  piety  and  felicity,  adverts  to  these 
paternal  provisions  of  the  God  of  the  seasons : — 

'  He  marks  the  bounds  which  wmter  may  not  pass, 
And  blunts  his  pointed  fury ;  in  its  case, 
Russet  and  rude,  folds  up  the  tender  germ 
Uninjured,  with  inimitable  art; 
And,  ere  one  flowery  season  fades  and  dies, 
Designs  the  blooming  wonders  of  the  next.' 

Before  closing  this  paper,  we  may  just  hint  at  another  re- 
markable provision  of  Nature,  with  regard  to  plants,  as  appli- 
cable to  the  present  season  of  the  year, — that  by  which  the 
vegetable  principle  acquires  a  kind  of  accelerated  impulse, 
when  it  happens  to  be  pent  up  for  a  more  than  ordinary  peri- 
od. Every  one  is  4'amiliar  with  the  fact,  that  a  cold  spring 
retards  the  vegetation  ;  and  that,  when  this  has  been  the  case 
to  a  more  than  usual  extent,  a  few  days  of  warm  weather  suc- 
ceeding, will  cause  a  sudden  and  wonderful  burst  of  vegeta- 
tion, which  soon  compensates  for  the  delay.  Nature  is  in 
haste,  as  it  were,  to  regain  her  lost  time.  This  principle  is 
peculiarly  remarkable  in  very  northern  climates.  Where 
the  snow  lies  on  the  ground  more  than  ten  months  of  the  year, 
as  in  Siberia  and  Lapland,  spring,  summer,  and  autumn,  are 
all  comprised  in  the  short  space  of  five  or  six  weeks ;  and, 
during  that  period,  the  whole  process  of  springing,  growing, 
flowering,  producing  fruit,  and  ripening,  is  completed.     This 


PHYSIOLOGICAL    CONDITION. 


167 


is  exemplified  in  a  register  kept  of  the  Siberian  vegetation, 
of  which  the  following  is  a  copy : — 

July     1,  Snow  gone. 

9.  Fields  quite  green. 

17.  Plants  at  full  growth. 
25.  Ditto  in  flower, 

August    2.  Fruit  ripe. 

18.  Snow. 

And  from  that  time,  snow  and  ice  to  23d  of  June,  when  they  begin  to 
melt. 

This  astonishing  elasticity  in  the  principle  of  vegetable 
life,  is  an  exceedingly  striking  provision  of  the  God  of  Na- 
ture, which  indicates  an  admirable  adaptation  to  a  very  pe- 
culiar state  of  climate.  Where  Nature  sleeps  for  five-sixths 
of  the  year,  the  plants  sleep  during  the  same  period ;  and  yet, 
when  they  awake,  they  run  their  course,  like  other  plants, 
only  hastening  their  pace,  that  they  may  accomplish  it  with- 
in the  allotted  time. 


SIXTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

INSTINCT. 

In  proceeding  from  examining  the  state  of  plants  during 
winter,  to  the  consideration  of  that  of  animals,  the  subject  of 
Instinct  forces  itself  on  our  attention.  This  is  one  of  the 
most  mysterious  and  wonderful  of  all  the  qualities  inherent 
in  organized  beings,  and,  in  its  operations,  exhibits  so  distinct- 
ly a  Designing  Cause,  separate  from  the  being  which  pos- 
sesses it,  as  to  be  calculated,  more  perhaps  than  almost  any 
other  natural  phenomenon,  to  carry  to  the  inquiring  mind  a 
settled  conviction  of  a  supreme  and  intelligent  Creator. 

Instinct  has  been  defined  to  be  '  the  operation  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  organized  life,  by  the  exercise  of  certain  natural 
powers,  directed  to  the  present  or  future  good  of  the  individ- 
ual ;'  and  it  has  been  distinguished  from  reason,  by  consider- 
ing the  latter  as  '  the  operation  of  the  principle  of  intellectual 


168  INSTINCT. 

life,  by  the  exercise  of  certain  acquired  powers,  directed  to  the 
same  end.'*  This  definition,  without  entering  into  the  theo- 
ry with  which  it  is  connected,  seems  sufficiently  accurate  to 
answer  our  present  object. 

Symptoms  of  an  instinctive  principle,  as  thus  defined,  are 
to  be  found  in  various  productions  of  the  vegetable  world. 
Two  or  three  instances  of  this  kind  may  be  mentioned  : — 

A  strawberry  offset,  planted  in  a  patch  of  sand,  will  send 
forth  almost  the  whole  of  its  runners  in  the  direction  in  which 
the  proper  soil  lies  nearest. 

When  a  tree,  which  requires  much  moisture,  has  been 
planted  in  a  dry  soil,  in  the  vicinity  of  water,  it  has  been  ob- 
served, that  much  the  greater  proportion  of  its  roots  have  been 
directed  towards  the  water. 

Trees  which  have  sprung  up  on  a  bare  rock,  will  send  out 
their  roots  in  every  direction,  till  they  reach  the  soil  below. 
Every  one  is  familiar  with  this  fact,  who  has  frequented  a 
wooded  rocky  district. 

A  fact  of  a  similar  nature,  which  is  noticed,  I  think,  by 
Lord  Kames,  and  which  I  have  myself  witnessed,  occurred  at 
the  Abbey  of  Sweetheart,  in  Galloway,  where  an  ash-tree, 
growing  on  the  wall  which  surrounds  the  abbey,  after  ex- 
hausting the  small  quantity  of  soil  which  had  collected  on  its 
site,  stopped  from  growing  for  a  time,  and  seemed  to  unite 
all  its  strength  in  sending  down  a  root  to  the  ground.  As 
soon  as  this  root  had  established  itself  in  the  soil,  the  tree 
began  again  to  flourish,  and  increase,  till  it  grew  to  a  con- 
siderable size. 

I  have  somewhere  seen  an  account  of  a  tree,  which  grew 
in  the  valley  of  the  Earn,  in  Perthshire,  if  I  mistake  not,  on 
a  scanty  soil,  by  the  bank  of  a  stream,  over  which,  in  its  im- 
mediate vicinity,  a  foot-bridge,  covered  with  turf,  had  been 
erected.  The  tree,  taking  advantage  of  this  circumstance, 
pushed  its  roots  through  the  dead  turf  of  the  bridge,  till  they 
fastened  in  the  fertile  soil,  which  happened  to  lie  on  the  other 
side  of  the  stream ;  and  then,  swelling  and  strengthening  its 
♦  Good's  'Book  of  Nature,'  vol.  ii.  p.  141. 


INSTINCT.  169 

new  organ  of  communication,  drew  sufficient  nourishment 
from  this  source  to  supply  all  the  wants  of  its  nature. 

All  facts  of  this  kind,  and  many  more  that  might  be  men- 
tioned, may,  in  my  opinion,  be  clearly  attributed  to  the  prin- 
ciple of  instinct. 

Of  instinct  in  animals,  Dr.  Good  gives  the  following  cu- 
rious notices  : — '  All  the  different  species  of  birds,  in  con- 
structing their  nests,  not  only  adhere  to  a  peculiar  plan,  but, 
whenever  they  can  obtain  them,  to  peculiar  kinds  of  mate- 
rials ;  but,  if  these  materials  be  not  to  be  procured,  the 
accommodating  power  of  the  instinctive  principle  directs 
them  to  others,  and  suggests  the  best  substitutes.  Thus,  the 
red-breast  uniformly  prefers  oak  leaves  as  a  lining  for  her 
nest,  wherever  she  can  acquire  them  ;  but,  if  these  are  not  to 
be  had,  she  supplies  the  want  by  moss  and  hair.  So,  when 
the  bird  is  of  a  small  size,  and  the  eggs  are  naturally  nu- 
merous, the  nest  is  always  made  proportionally  warm,  that 
the  nesthngs  may  all  equally  partake  of  the  vivifying  heat. 
Thus,  the  wren,  who  lays  from  ten  to  eighteen  eggs,  con- 
structs her  little  edifice  with  the  greatest  care,  and  of  the 
warmest  materials ;  while  the  plover  and  the  eagle,  whose 
eggs  are  so  few,  that  the  body  may  easily  cover  them,  build 
with  little  solicitude,  and  sometimes  content  themselves  with 
the  naked  cleft  of  a  rock.  And  thus,  too,  in  very  cold  win- 
ters in  Lapland,  the  fond  water-fowl  will  occasionally  strip 
the  down  off  its  breast,  to  line  its  nest  and  protect  its  progeny. 
When  a  wasp,  in  attempting  to  transport  a  dead  companion 
from  the  nest,  finds  the  load  too  heavy,  he  cuts  off  its  head, 
and  carries  it  out  in  two  portions.' 

These  illustrations  may  suffice  for  the  present,  especially 
as  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  facts  relative  to  the  animal 
creation,  which  I  am  about  to  adduce,  must  be  referred  to  the 
same  principle.  Instinct,  I  may  add,  as  in  some  of  the  above 
instances,  does  not  unfrequently  resemble  reason,  and  it  may 
be  united  with,  and  modified  by,  this  quality ;  but  it  may  be 
distinguished  from  it  by  this,  that  its  operations  are  generally 
perfect  of  their  kind  ;  that  its  powers  are  precisely  the  same 

VOL.  IV.  15 


170  INSTINCT. 

in  all  generations  ;  that  they  belong,  nearly  in  an  equal 
degree,  to  all  individuals  of  the  same  species ;  and  that  its 
functions  proceed  blindly  towards  the  attainment  of  an  im- 
portant object,  the  use  and  tendency  of  which  is  not  per- 
ceived by  the  creature  itself. 

I  have  said,  that  this  principle  is  probably  calculated,  better 
than  any  other  natural  phenomenon,  to  lead  the  mind  to  an 
acknowledgment  of  a  Divine  hand.  Let  us  revert,  for  a 
few  moments,  to  this  view. 

In  examining  the  general  structure  of  the  universe,  we 
observe  a  few  simple,  though  vast  and  comprehensive,  pow- 
ers inherent  in  matter,  which,  by  their  universal  and  uniform 
operation,  move  Nature  with  the  same  regularity  as  if  it  were 
a  mighty  machine  impelled  by  brute  force  ;  and  hence  the 
indolent  or  sceptical  may  be  inclined  to  rest  in  the  existence 
of  these  powers  as  an  ultimate  fact,  without  seeking  for  an 
intelligent  Creator,  from  whom  they  emanated,  and  by  whom 
they  have  been  adjusted  and  regulated.  The  same  thing 
may  take  place  in  contemplating  the  structure  of  organized 
bodies.  So  much  of  mere  mechanical  power  enters  into 
every  process  of  their  formation,  growth,  and  preservation, 
that,  although  it  does  seem  to  be  the  blindness  of  utter  stu- 
pidity to  deny  to  these  productions  unequivocal  marks  of 
wise  and  beneficent  design,  it  is  possible  to  conceive,  that,  in 
tracmg  the  mere  physical  laws  by  which  their  various  pro- 
perties are  governed,  the  cold  calculations  of  a  contracted 
mind  may  proceed  no  farther.  On  turning  from  these  ap- 
pearances of  external  nature,  to  the  operations  of  rational 
creatures,  such  minds  may  be  led  to  admire  the  wisdom 
which  contrives,  and  the  power  and  skill  which  executes,  the 
various  plans  of  life,  without  directing  one  serious  thought 
beyond  the  intelligence  of  the  immediate  agent.  But  it  re- 
quires a  still  greater  degree  of  obtuseness  and  of  obstinacy, 
to  resist  the  evidence  of  a  designing  and  bountiful  Creator, 
in  the  wonders  of  instinct.  These  are  altogether  independent 
of  reasoning  powers,  and  impel  organized  beings  by  a  saga- 
city, obviously  not  their   own,  to  compass  important  ends, 


ON   SEEING   GOD   IN   HIS   WORKS.  171 

which,  though  essential  to  the  welfare,  and  even  to  the  very- 
existence,  not  only  of  the  individual,  but  of  the  species,  could 
not,  by  any  possibility,  be  within  their  contemplation,  being 
far  beyond  the  range  of  their  limited  faculties.  Here,  then, 
there  is  a  designing  cause,  distinct  from,  and  superior  to,  the 
agent ;  and  this  is  the  more  clearly  discernible,  because  its 
operations  are  governed  by  other  than  mere  mechanical 
powers.  'IJook  upon  instinct,' says  Addison,  '  as  upon  the 
principle  of  gravitation  in  bodies,  which  is  not  to  be  explained 
by  any  known  qualities  inherent  in  the  bodies  themselves, 
nor  upon  any  laws  of  mechanism  ;  but,  according  to  the  best 
notions  of  the  greatest  philosophers,  is  an  immediate  impres- 
sion from  the  First  Mover,  and  the  Divine  energy  acting  in 
the  creatures ;  such  an  operation  of  the  Supreme  Being  as 
that  which  determines  all  the  portions  of  matter  to  their 
proper  centre.' 


SEVENTH    WEEK— SUNDAY. 

ON    SEEING    GOD    IN    HIS   WORKS. 

Almost  all  men,  not  in  the  lowest  stage  of  barbarism  or 
degradation,  are  capable  of  admiring  the  beauties  of  Nature. 
Even  the  dullest  and  most  unreflecting  mind  is,  at  times, 
more  or  less  vividly  impressed  with  the  wonderful  skill  and 
beauty  so  profusely  scattered  over  all  creation.  But  the  in- 
telligent eye  is  always  delighted,  and  frequently  kindled  into 
rapture,  by  the  rich  and  splendid  scenery  that  on  every  side 
solicits  its  attention.  Our  susceptibility  of  impressions  of 
grandeur  or  beauty,  deserves  to  be  ranked  among  our  origi- 
nal faculties  ;  for  it  is  observable  in  all  classes  of  the  human 
family, — refined  and  exalted  in  the  bosom  of  the  enlightened 
European,  and  not  unfelt  by  the  savage  tenant  of  the  Afri- 
can or  American  desert.  A  love  of  Nature  appears  to  be 
implanted  in  man,  to  feed  the  flame  of  religion  in  his  soul, — 


172  ON    SEEING    GOD   IN    HIS   WORKS. 

to  assist  in  leading  him  from  the  wonderfully  contrived  ob- 
jects around  him  to  a  belief  in  an  intelligent  and  bountiful 
Creator.  We  are  told  in  Holy  Scripture,  that  God  never  left 
himself  without  a  witness  to  the  human  race,  inasmuch  as 
his  power  and  goodness  may  be  always  clearly  known  from 
the  exuberant  plenty  and  beauty  scattered  over  the  earth, 
their  magnificent  abode.  As  they  had  hearts  to  feel  a  senti- 
ment of  gratitude  for  bounty  lavishly  bestowed,  and  under- 
standings to  reason  from  effects  to  causes,  the  ancient  heathen 
were  altogether  inexcusable  in  not  knowing  the  true  God, 
the  great  First  Cause  of  all,  and  the  source  of  '  every  good 
and  perfect  gift.'  They  wandered  from  the  right  way,  only 
because  they  were  heedless  or  wilfully  perverse.  Their  feel- 
ings and  powers  became  the  instruments  of  their  self-delu- 
sion ;  and,  instead  of  seeing  in  nature  a  supreme  and  infinite 
God,  they  saw  a  thousand  grovelling  divinities ;  and  fancy 
lent  all  the  fascinations  of  poetry  to  their  corrupt  and  irra- 
tional mythology. 

But  if  the  heathen,  who  lived  in  times  of  rudeness  and  ig- 
norance, were  subject  to  condemnation  for  abusing  their  facul- 
ties and  opportunities,  how  much  more  guilty  are  we  in  not 
seeing  God  in  all  his  works  ?  How  much  more  worthy  of 
punishment  are  we,  if  we  turn  not  into  their  proper  and  legit- 
imate channel  that  sympathy  with  external  nature,  and  that 
instinctive  admiration  of  the  grand  and  the  beautiful,  with 
which  we  are  endowed  ?  The  question  is  not, — do  we,  like 
the  heathen  of  ancient  or  modern  times,  believe  in  a  poly- 
theism, and  people,  with  the  vain  creatures  of  our  imagina- 
tion, the  regions  of  the  land  and  the  sea?  for  we  at  once,  un- 
intelligently,  perhaps,  and,  as  it  were,  mechanically  assent  to 
the  received  truth, — there  is  one  God  ;  and  we  also  readily 
acquiesce  in  the  grave  lessons  that  may  be  read  us  by  some 
pious  student  of  the  book  of  Nature.  But  the  inquiry  to  be 
made  at  our  own  hearts  is,  Do  we  habitually  see  the  Creator 
in  His  works,  and  associate  His  glorious  perfections  with 
every  witnessed  specimen  of  His  skill  1  We  luxuriate  in 
the  glowing  summer  landscape  ;  we  there  admire  the  univer- 


ON    SEEING    GOD   IN   HIS   WORKS.  173 

sal  flush  of  inanimate  nature  ;  we  listen,  with  delight,  to  the 
sweet  singing  of  birds,  and  the  mingling  murmurs  of  winds 
and  streams  :  but  do  we  straightway  lift  up  our  eyes  to  hea- 
ven in  adoring  gratitude,  and  own  a  God  around  us  ?  or  do 
all  our  feelings  but  minister  to  a  luxurious  sensibility,  and 
evaporate  in  some  poetic  dream  ?  When  we  survey,  by  night, 
the  starry  heaven,  and  direct  our  telescope  to  those  countless 
worlds  that  there  crowd  upon  the  vision,  are  we  lost  in  de- 
vout admiration  of  the  wondrous  universe  of  God?  or  do  we 
merely  resign  ourselves  to  those  emotions  of  sublimity  that 
such  a  magnificent  scene  is  so  well  fitted  to  awaken?  We 
are  too  apt,  and  too  habituated  to  behold  the  glories  of  crea- 
tion, without  looking  farther.  We  are  satisfied  with  a  vague 
sentimental  feeling  of  beauty,  and  think  not  of  that  Hand 
from  which  all  beauty  flows.  We  are  struck  with  the  end- 
less adaptations  of  the  material  world,  but  we  do  not  always 
raise  our  thoughts  to  the  great  Designer.  We  analyze  and 
admire  the  splendid  machinery  of  the  heavens,  but  we  recog- 
nize not  the  matchless  power  of  the  Mechanist.  We  philos- 
ophize, we  speculate,  we  declaim,  on  the  structure  of  a  flow- 
er, or  the  mechanism  of  a  planetary  system,  but  only  talk  the 
while  of  Nature  and  her  works,  as  if  Nature — a  mere  fashion- 
ed mass  of  inert  matter — were  the  parent  of  all  things,  and 
the  grand  object  of  our  worship. 

Would  we  read  the  book  of  Nature  aright,  and  see  God  in 
his  works,  Ave  must  have  recourse  to  the  book  of  Revelation  ; 
for  these  two  great  volumes,  written  by  the  same  hand,  and 
for  a  similar  purpose,  cast  a  strong  light  upon  each  other.  As 
the  book  of  Nature,  by  the  visible  impress  of  Divinity  stamp- 
ed upon  it,  is  fitted  to  prepare  us  for  the  more  glorious  dis- 
play of  the  Divine  perfections  contained  in  the  book  of  Reve- 
lation,— so  is  this  latter  the  truest  and  safest  guide  to  the  pro- 
fitable perusal  of  the  former.  In  the  Bible,  the  great  produc- 
tions and  aspects  of  nature  are  always  mentioned  in  connex- 
ion with  the  glory  of  God.  They  are  introduced,  often  in 
strains  of  the  boldest  poetry,  to  teach  the  infinite  power  and 
goodness  of  Jehovah.  We  there  find  the  noblest  descriptions 
15* 


174  ON    SEEING    GOD   IN    HIS   WORKS. 

of  natural  objects  ever  penned ;  and  one  great  moral  runs 
through  them  all.  Every  masterly  picture  of  the  grand  or 
the  beautiful  in  nature,  is  but  a  delineation  of  God's  wondrous 
attributes. 

It  is,  therefore,  a  positive  duty,  sublimely  taught  us  by  both 
precept  and  example,  to  cherish  a  sense  of  the  infinite  skill 
and  bounty  displayed  in  creation.  We  should  associate,  with 
all  that  attracts  the  eye  by  its  beauty,  or  excites  our  admira- 
tion by  its  delicate  structure,  the  liveliest  expressions  of  adora- 
tion and  gratitude.  Every  survey  of  natural  scenery,  every 
examination  of  even  the  smallest  of  God's  works,  should  be  to 
us  a  devotional  exercise.  To  a  mind  accustomed  to  conse- 
crate all  its  perceptions  of  beauty  and  design  to  the  inward 
worship  of  God,  every  mountain  and  field,  every  leaf  and 
flower,  teems  with  instruction.  The  tiny  wing  of  the  ephe- 
meral insect,  as  well  as  the  noblest  animal  form,  affords  food 
for  the  loftiest  admiration.  The  man  of  true  piety  and  refin- 
ed feeling,  enjoys  the  beauties  of  nature  with  the  keenest  rel- 
ish ;  for  nature  is  but  a  pictured  volume  in  which  he  reads 
the  character  of  the  Divinity.  Every  object  that  meets  his 
eye,  be  it  vast  or  minute,  simple  or  complex,  suggests  exalted 
conceptions  of  Him 

'  Who  gives  its  lustre  to  an  insect's  wing, 
And  wheels  His  throne  upon  the  rolling  worlds.' 

All  our  feelings  and  intellectual  powers  should  be  devoted 
to  the  glory  of  God,  their  Author  and  their  End.  Our  purest 
sympathies,  our  liveliest  sensations,  our  most  exquisite  percep- 
tions, are  due  to  his  worship,  and  are  all  originally  fitted  to 
exalt  our  conception  of  His  character.  To  behold  the  won- 
derful scene  in  which  we  are  placed  with  the  eye  of  reason, 
and  with  feelings  of  elevated  devotion,  is  both  our  duty  and 
our  privilege.  When  we  contemplate,  therefore,  the  heavens, 
with  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  which  God  has  ordained, — the 
earth,  with  all  its  array  of  plants  and  flowers,  and  animated 
beings, — the  sea,  with  its  multitude  of  waves  and  living  forms, 


REASON    IN   THE   LOWER    ANIMALS.  175 

let  us  gratefull;y  adore  the  Almighty  Creator,  and  exclaim 
with  the  Psalmist,  '  O  Lord,  our  Lord,  how  excellent  is  thy 
name  in  all  the  earth  !'  J-  r)- 


SEVENTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

REASON    IN    THE   LOWER    ANIMALS. 

Instinct,  if  the  definition  which  I  have  given  of  it  in  my 
paper  of  Saturday  be  correct,  will  not  account  for  all  the  ope- 
rations of  the  lower  animals.  Instinct  is  uniform.  It  belongs 
to  all  the  species  nearly  in  the  same  degree.  The  young 
possess  it  as  soon  as  they  are  produced ;  or,  at  least,  as  soon 
as  their  bodily  powers  will  enable  them  to  employ  it,  in  as 
great  perfection  as  the  old.  It  is  not  communicated  by  in- 
struction ;  it  is  not  learned  by  experience.  The  young  bee, 
for  instance,  the  moment  it  leaves  the  cell  where  it  has  been 
produced  and  cradled,  cleans  its  body,  smooths  its  wings,  then 
leaves  its  hive,  and  flies,  without  a  guide  or  teacher,  to  the 
nearest  flower,  where,  with  a  skill  equal  to  that  of  the  oldest 
in  the  swarm,  using  its  feelers,  and  inserting  its  proboscis,  it 
sips  the  sweet  nectar  with  which  the  Author  of  Nature  has, 
for  its  use,  filled  so  many  vegetable  cups,  and  then  returns  to 
its  native  roof,  tracing  its  solitary  way  through  the  trackless 
air,  and  deposites  the  gleanings  of  its  industry,  to  add  to  the 
hoarded  treasures  of  the  parent  swarm.  Then,  again,  it  ex- 
udes the  secreted  wax  from  the  rings  of  its  body  ;  and,  still 
without  instruction,  begins  to  form  those  wonderful  hexagon- 
al cells,  the  scientific  construction  of  which  the  mathemati- 
cian has  found  such  reason  to  admire.     All  this  is  instinct. 

Yet,  though  there  is  wisdom  here,  it  is  not  that  of  the  ani- 
mal, but  of  its  Creator.  It  has  been  guided  to  these  intelli- 
gent works  by  a  blind  impulse.  Thi*,  however,  is  not  the 
case  with  many  of  the  actions  of  the  inferior  creation  ;  and, 
however  difficult  it  may  be  to  draw  the  line  between  reason 
and  instinct,  I  believe  no  person  who  has,  without  prejudice, 


176  REASON    IN    THE    LOWER    ANIMALS. 

Studied  the  character  and  habits  of  the  living  creatures  below 
him,  will  find  it  easy  to  deny  them  at  least  some  glimpses  of 
that  higher  faculty  to  which  his  own  species  has  the  most  ap- 
propriate claim.  A  few  well  authenticated  instances  will  il- 
lustrate this  remark. 

I  have  the  following  anecdote  from  a  gentleman*  of  un- 
doubted veracity,  and  acute  observation,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Dumfries.  A  few  years  ago  this  gentleman  had  beautified 
his  residence,  by  converting  a  morass  in  its  neighborhood  into 
an  extensive  piece  of  water,  which  he  had  stocked  with  fish ; 
and  as  places  of  retreat  for  these  tenants  of  his  lake,  he  had 
caused  numerous  roots  of  trees  to  be  thrown  in  here  and  there, 
which  were  usually  hid  below  the  surface.  In  the  year  1836, 
however,  the  unusually  dry  spring  caused  the  necessary  sup- 
ply of  water  unexpectedly  to  fail,  and  the  pond  sank  so  low 
that  some  of  the  roots  made  their  appearance,  and  on  one  of 
these,  more  elevated  than  the  others,  a  pair  of  wild  ducks 
constructed  their  inartificial  nest.  The  female  had  already 
laid  some  eggs,  when  the  weather  changed,  and  the  descend- 
ing rains  having  filled  the  streams  by  which  the  lake  was 
fed,  the  surface  gradually  rose,  and  threatened  to  overwhelm 
the  labours  of  this  luckless  pair,  and  to  send  their  eggs  adrift 
upon  the  waves.  Here  instinct  had  no  resource.  It  was  an 
unexpected  occurrence,  for  which  this  faculty  could  not  pro- 
vide ;  but  if  any  glimmerings  of  reason  belonged  to  these 
fond  parents,  it  might  be  expected  to  be  exerted.  And  so  it 
was.  Both  the  duck  and  the  drake  were  observed  to  be  busi- 
ly employed  in  collecting  and  depositing  materials  ;  present- 
ly the  nest,  which  the  rising  waters  had  already  reached,  was 
seen  to  emerge  as  it  were  from  the  flood  ;  more  and  more 
straw  and  grass  were  added,  till  several  inches  of  new  eleva- 
tion was  gained,  and  the  nest,  with  its  precious  contents,  ap- 
peared to  be  secure.  Here  the  mother  patiently  brooded  her 
full  time  ;  and  one  duckling  rewarded  her  care  ;  when,  just 
as  it  had  escaped  from  the  shell,  another  torrent  of  rain  fell, 
more  sudden  and  more  violent  than  the  first ;    the  water  rose 

*  James  Lennox,  Esq.,  of  Dalscairth. 


REASON   IN   THE   LOWER   ANIMALS.  177 

higher  and  higher  ;  the  nest,  and  remaining  eggs,  were  swept 
away.  In  this  emergency,  the  whole  attention  of  the  parents 
was  given  to  the  living  progeny,  which  was  safely  conveyed 
by  them  to  the  shore,  where  another  nest  was  constructed ; 
and  thus  their  sagacity  and  solicitude  were  finally  crowned 
with  success. 

An  example,  it  should  seem,  of  a  still  higher  order  of  in- 
telligence is  recorded  by  Mr.  Jesse,  in  his  'Gleanings  in 
Natural  History,'  which  came  under  his  own  observation  : — 
'  I  was  one  day,'  says  he,  '  feeding  the  poor  elephant  (who 
was  so  barbarously  put  to  death  at  Exeter  Change)  with  pota- 
toes, which  he  took  out  of  my  hand.  One  of  them,  a  round 
one,  fell  on  the  floor,  just  out  of  the  reach  of  his  proboscis. 
He  leaned  against  his  wooden  bar,  put  out  his  trunk,  and 
could  just  touch  the  potato,  but  could  not  pick  it  up.  After 
several  ineffectual  efforts,  he  at  last  blew  the  potato  against 
the  opposite  wall  with  sufficient  force  to  make  it  rebound  ; 
and  he  then,  without  difficulty,  secured  it.'  If  we  can  be- 
lieve that  this  extraordinary  action  was  any  thing  but  an 
ebullition  of  anger  which  led  him  to  puff'  away  the  root 
which  he  could  not  secure, — that  this  half-reasoning  animal, 
as  the  elephant  has  been  called,  really  intended  the  potato 
to  rebound  within  his  reach,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  the  jus- 
tice of  Mr.  Jesse's  conclusion,  that  it  could  not  be  instinct 
which  taught  him  to  procure  his  food  in  this  manner  ;  and 
that  it  must,  therefore,  have  been  reason  which  '  enabled  him 
to  be  so  good  a  judge  of  cause  and  effect.' 

In  some  of  the  insect  tribes,  there  seems  to  be  an  extraor- 
dinary faculty,  which,  if  it  can  be  called  instinct,  surely  ap- 
proaches to  the  highest  faculty  possessed  by  man, — I  mean 
the  power  of  communicating  information  by  some  natural 
language.  Huber  affirms,  '  that  nature  has  given  to  ants  a 
language  of  communication,  by  the  contact  of  their  antennae  ; 
and  that,  with  these  organs,  they  are  enabled  to  render  mu- 
tual assistance  in  their  labours  and  in  their  dangers,  discover 
again  their  route  when  they  have  lost  it,  and  make  each 
other  acquainted  with  their  necessities.'     This  power  seems 


178  REASON    IN    THK    LOWER    ANIMALS. 

to  be  confirmed  by  what  occurred  to  Dr.  Franklin.  Upon 
discovering  a  number  of  ants  regaling  themselves  with  some 
treacle  in  one  of  his  cupboards,  he  put  them  to  the  rout, 
and  then  suspended  the  pot  of  treacle  by  a  string  from  the 
ceiling.  He  imagined  that  he  had  put  the  whole  army  to 
flight,  but  was  surprised  to  see  a  single  ant  quit  the  pot,  climb 
up  the  string,  cross  the  ceiling,  and  regain  its  nest.  In  less 
than  half  an  hour,  several  of  its  companions  sallied  forth, 
traversed  the  ceiling,  and  reached  the  repository,  which  they 
constantly  revisited,  till  the  treacle  was  consumed.  The 
same  power  of  communication  belongs  also  to  bees  and  wasps, 
as  may  be  proved  by  any  one  who  carefully  attends  to  their 
habits.  This  is  their  language,  not  of  articulate  sounds,  in- 
deed, but  of  signs, — a  language  which,  as  Jesse  observes, '  we 
can  have  no  doubt  is  perfectly  suited  to  them, — adding,  we 
know  not  how  much,  to  their  happiness  and  enjoyments,  and 
furnishing  another  proof  that  there  is  a  God  all-mighty,  all- 
wise,  and  all-good,  who  has  '•  ornamented  the  universe"  with 
so  many  objects  of  delightful  contemplation,  that  we  may  see 
Him  in  all  His  works,  and  learn,  not  only  to  fear  Him  for 
his  power,  but  to  love  Him  for  the  care  which  He  takes  of 
us,  and  of  all  His  created  beings.'  Whether  this  power  of 
communication  be  rational  or  instinctive,  it  is  obviously 
only  suited  to  be  useful  to  a  being  possessed,  at  least  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  of  intellectual  faculties, — of  the  power  of  forming 
designs,  of  combining,  with  others,  to  execute  them, — of  ac- 
commodating itself  to  circumstances,  and  therefore  of  remem- 
bering, of  comparing,  of  judging,  and  of  resolving.  These 
are  assuredly  acts  of  reasoning  ;  at  least  I  know  not  under 
what  other  category  to  arrange  them. 

The  instance  which  Dr.  Darwin  gives  of  a  wasp,  noticed 
by  himself,  is  in  point.  As  he  was  walking  one  day  in  his 
garden,  he  perceived  a  wasp  upon  the  gravel  walk,  with  a 
large  fly,  nearly  as  big  as  itself,  which  it  had  caught.  Kneel- 
ing down,  he  distinctly  saw  it  cut  off  the  head  and  abdomen, 
and  then,  taking  up  with  its  feet  the  trunk,  or  middle  portion 
of  the  body,  to  which  the  wings  remained  attached,  fly  away ; 


KEASON    IN    THE    LOWER    ANIMALS.  179 

but  a  breeze  of  wind,  acting  on  the  wings  of  the  fly,  turned 
round  the  wasp,  with  its  burden,  and  impeded  its  progress. 
Upon  this,  it  alighted  again  on  the  gravel  walk,  deliberately- 
sawed  off,  first  one  wing,  and  then  another,  and  having  thus 
removed  the  cause  of  its  embarrassment,  flew  off  with  its 
booty. 

Here  we  have  contrivance  and  re-contrivance  ;  a  resolu- 
tion accommodated  to  the  case,  judiciously  formed  and  exe- 
cuted, and,  on  the  discovery  of  a  new  impediment,  a  new 
plan  adopted,  by  which  final  success  was  obtained.  There 
is,  undoubtedly,  something  more  than  instinct  in  all  this. 
And  yet  we  call  the  wasp  a  despicable  and  hateful  insect ! 

There  is,  I  am  well  aware,  a  great  reluctance  in  some 
minds,  to  admit  that  any  of  the  lower  animals  can  be  gifted 
with  a  faculty  superior  to  blind  unreasoning  instinct.  It  is 
imagined  that  this  would  be  to  confound  man  with  the  brutes, 
and  thus  to  deprive  him  of  that  distinctive  superiority  on 
which  he  founds  his  strongest  argument  for  the  immortality 
of  the  human  soul.  Of  such  a  consequence  I  have  no  fear. 
It  is  not  on  natural  arguments  that  the  Christian's  hope  of 
future  happiness  is  founded,  but  on  that  gospel,  which  has 
'  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light.'  Yet,  I  freely  admit, 
that  the  argument  from  natural  religion  is  satisfactory  as  a 
proof  of  the  coincidence  of  revelation  with  the  rational  expec- 
tations, and  the  anlaogical  reasonings,  of  man.  But  these 
expectations  and  reasonings  are  founded  on  stronger  grounds 
than  that  of  the  absence  of  every  thing  appproaching  to  rea- 
son among  the  lower  animals,  otherwise,  I  fear,  they  could 
not  be  readily  sustained.  Whatever  may  be  their  strength, 
however,  it  is  delightful  to  know  that  our  assurance  comes 
from  a  higher  source,  and  that  we  are  not  reduced,  like  one 
of  the  most  enlightened  and  virtuous  of  heathens,  to  end  all 
our  anxious  arguments  on  this  most  important  subject,  with 
the  feeble  and  doubting  conclusion, '  Quod  si,  in  hocerro,  H- 
herder  erro.''* 

*  Cicero. 


180  HYBERNATION    OF    INSECTS. 

SEVENTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

HYBERNATION    OF   INSECTS. EGGS. 

In  attending  to  the  state  of  animated  nature  in  winter,  as 
compared  with  that  of  summer,  few  things  are  more  striking 
than  the  almost  total  disappearance,  during  the  former  season, 
of  all  the  insect  tribes.  In  the  warmth  and  sunshine  of  the 
summer  months,  all  nature  was  instinct  with  life  ;  and  the 
abundance  and  variety  of  the  more  minute  animals  could  not 
fail  to  attract  the  observation,  and  excite  the  wonder,  of  all 
who  have  eyes  to  see.  The  bee,  the  dragon-fly,  the  butter- 
fly, the  gnat,  and  the  midge,  in  all  their  varieties,  with  my- 
riads of  flies  of  other  species,  seemed  to  communicate  life  and 
enjoyment  to  the  very  air  we  breathe  ;  while  the  worm,  the 
beetle,  the  ant,  the  caterpillar,  the  spider,  and  innumerable 
other  creatures,  some  of  them  too  minute  to  be  examined 
without  the  assistance  of  art,  swarmed  on  every  flower  we 
plucked,  and  animated  the  very  dust  beneath  our  feet.  Where 
now  is  all  this  busy  world  ?  Tribe  after  tribe,  they  have 
vanished  from  our  view ;  and  even  in  days  of  balmiest  air, 
and  brightest  sunshine,  we  seek  for  them  in  vain.  Has  the 
breath  of  winter  pierced  through  their  tiny  forms,  and  frozen 
the  current  of  life  at  its  source  ?  And,  if  so,  by  what  process 
of  reproduction  shall  all  their  various  species  be  reanimated 
in  the  returaing  spring  ?  The  inquiry  is  at  once  interesting 
and  useful ;  and  here,  again,  we  shall  have  occasion  to  ad- 
mire the  inexhaustible  resources  of  Divine  intelligence. 

Of  some  insect  families,  it  is  known,  that  all  the  individu- 
als are  destined  to  perish  before  the  cold  of  winter  arrives. 
The  natural  term  of  their  existence  is  comprised  within  the 
span  of  a  few  months  ;  and  their  periods  of  youth,  of  vigour, 
and  of  decay,  nay,  of  resuscitation  under  new  forms,  and  of 
the  various  stages  of  their  second  or  even  third  state  of  exist- 
ence, have  all  been  accomplished  during  the  season  of  genial 
warmth ;  so  that  they  naturally  cease  to  exist  before  the  heat 


EGGS.  181 

which  cherished  them,  and  the  food  which  sustained  them, 


are  withdrawn.  Their  modes  of  life  will  more  properly 
form  the  subject  of  attention  at  another  season  ;  but  at  pre- 
sent we  have  to  inquire  into  the  provision  of  Providence,  by 
which  the  various  species  are  preserved,  after  the  whole  race 
has  ceased  to  live. 

As  the  principle  of  equivocal  generation  is  nearly  exploded 
from  natural  history,  it  will  readily  be  conjectured  that  the 
Creator  must  have  provided  for  the  preservation  of  the  future 
generations  of  these  animals  by  means  of  their  eggs ;  and 
this,  in  reality,  is  the  case.  There  are  various  conditions, 
however,  that  require  to  be  fulfilled  before  this  could  be  suc- 
cessfully accomplished.  Not  to  advert,  at  present,  to  the 
wonderful  but  familiar  contrivance  of  an  egg  containing  the 
embryo  of  the  future  animal,  a  contrivance  which  shall  after- 
wards be  considered,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that,  in  the  present 
instance,  the  egg  must  be  endued  with  the  quality  of  pre- 
serving its  principle  of  vitality  for  several  months,  in  circum- 
stances which  would  have  proved  fatal  to  the  animal  itself; 
that  it  must  only  produce  the  living  creature  when  the  wintry 
storms  are  past,  and  when  those  vegetable  substances  have 
begun  to  appear  on  which  that  creature  can  subsist ;  and,  that 
it  must  be  so  situated,  and  so  endowed,  as  to  be  able,  when 
animated,  to  find  its  way  to  the  open  air,  and  to  its  natural 
food.  If  any  one  of  these  conditions  were  wanting,  it  is  suf- 
ficiently apparent  that  the  species  must  perish. 

Now,  let  us  take  an  instance,  and  see  what  actually  occurs. 
I  select  the  case  of  the  gipsey-moth,  which  I  abridge  from 
the  article  Insect  Transformations,  in  the  '  Library  of  Enter, 
taining  Knowledge.'  The  female  of  this  insect  has  her  body 
thickly  covered  with  a  soft  down,  of  a  hair-brown  colour,  ap- 
parently for  the  express  purpose  of  enabling  her  to  protect 
her  eggs  during  winter ;  and  she  follows  the  impulse  of  her 
nature,  in  a  manner  well  worthy  of  notice.  Having  emerged 
from  her  pupa-case  m  the  month  of  August,  she  enjoys  life 
for  a  few  days,  and  then  prepares  for  the  propagation  of  her 
species,  after  which  she  quickly  dies.     She  places  herself  on 

VOL.  IV.  16 


T82  HYBERNATION    OF    INSECTS. 

the  trunk  of  an  oak  or  elm,  invariably  with  her  head  down- 
wards. Having  made  a  bed  or  nest  of  down,  by  tearing  it 
from  her  body,  she  lays  an  egg  in  it ;  and  this  egg  being 
covered  with  adhesive  gluten,  attaches  around  it  all  the  hairs 
of  the  down  with  which  it  comes  in  contact,  and  also  sticks 
to  the  bark  of  the  tree,  from  its  being  pushed  home.  Pro- 
ceeding in  this  manner,  she  continues  for  several  hours  add- 
ing to  the  mass  ;  but  she  does  not,  in  general,  finish  the  ope- 
ration in  less  than  two  days,  indulging  in  occasional  rests. 
At  intervals,  she  takes  care  to  protect  the  eggs  placed  in  the 
heap,  which  is  made  in  a  conical  shape,  with  an  exterior 
covering  of  the  same  down  ;  and,  it  is  not  a  little  remarka- 
ble, that  in  the  external  coping,  which  is  designed  to  keep  out 
the  winter  rains,  the  hairs  are  carefully  placed  in  a  sloping 
direction,  like  the  tiles  on  a  house,  or  the  pile  of  a  well- 
brushed  hat,  pointing  downwards,  towards  the  base  of  the 
cone.  The  eg^s,  which  are  deposited  with  so  much  care, 
are  destined  to  abide  all  the  pitiless  pelting  of  the  storms  of 
winter  ;  for,  although  they  are  laid  in  the  beginning  of  har- 
vest, they  are  not  hatched  till  the  elm,  which  is  to  furnish 
food  to  the  future  caterpillar,  comes  into  leaf  in  the  following 
spring.  This  covering  of  down,  from  the  manner  in  which 
it  is  tiled  and  brushed  smooth  by  the  mother  moth,  not  only 
protects  them  from  wet,  but,  being  one  -of  the  best  non-con- 
ductors, keeps  them  safe  from  the  injury  which  they  might 
sustain  from  severe  cold,  or  what  might  be  more  fatal,  from 
sudden  alternations  of  heat  and  cold. 

In  the  instance  now  detailed,  there  are  some  things  worthy 
of  particular  notice  ;  and,  as  it  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  won- 
derful instincts  of  insects  with  reference  to  the  preservation 
of  the  species  during  winter,  it  may  be  proper  to  make  a  few 
remarks  on  the  subject.  Let  it  be  observed,  first,  that  in  the 
previous  states  of  the  insect,  whether  as  a  caterpillar  or  a 
chrysalis,  it  had  no  power  of  propagating  its  species.  It  is 
not  till  its  last  and  most  perfect  stage  that  this  faculty  is  be- 
stowed ;  and  it  enters  on  that  stage  just  in  time  to  flutter 
awhile  m  the  sunshine,  and  then  to  die  before  the  cold  of  the 


EGGS.  183 

waning  year  interrupts  its  enjoyments,  withers  the  vegetables 
on  which  it  feeds,  and  chills  its  delicate  frame  ;  and  in  time, 
too,  to  lay  its  eggs,  that  they  may  weather  the  coming  storms 
of  winter,  which  the  parent  could  not  endure,  and  be  hatched 
when  the  breezes  of  spring  begin  to  breathe  softly,  and  na- 
ture again  proceeds  to  scatter  her  stores  of  food.  It  cannot 
be  here  said,  either  that  the  insect  dies  from  the  inclemency 
of  the  season,  or  that  the  hatching  of  the  eggs  is  retarded 
by  the  deficiency  of  warmth  ;  for  the  season  is  still  genial, 
when  the  former,  having  fulfilled  the  intentions  of  nature, 
ceases  to  exist,  and  months  of  weather  not  inferior  to  the  heat 
of  spring,  succeed  the  depositing  of  the  latter.  It  is  no  other 
than  a  wise  providential  arrangement. 

Another  surprising  feature  of  the  instinct  displayed  by  this 
moth  (which,  however,  so  far  from  being  peculiar  to  the 
species,  is  only  an  instance  of  a  general  faculty  affecting  al- 
most the  whole  insect  creation),  is  the  choice  of  the  spot  where 
she  deposits  her  eggs.  These  eggs,  Avhen  hatched,  are  des- 
tined to  produce  caterpillars,  whose  peculiar  food  is  to  be 
found  in  the  leaves  of  the  oak  or  elm.  From  all  the  trees  of 
the  forest,  she,  therefore,  selects  one  or  other  of  these  as  the 
place  for  depositing  her  precious  gift  to  a  future  year,  although 
it  is  not  from  them  that  her  own  means  of  subsistence  are  to 
be  gathered ;  and,  although,  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  judge 
there  is  nothing  in  her  condition,  as  a  moth,  which  could 
lead  to  the  preference. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  remarkable  manner  in 
which  the  gipsey-moth  protects  her  eggs  from  the  weather  ; 
but  it  may  be  proper  to  make  an  observation  or  two  on  the 
eggs  themselves,  applicable  generally  to  all  insect  eggs, 
which  are  exposed  to  the  storms  of  winter.  The  glutinous 
matter  by  which  the  eggs  are  united,  when  protruded  from  the 
insect,  and  which  is  so  necessary  for  preserving  them  in  a 
mass,  and  for  fixing  them  to  the  spot,  is  found,  contrary  to 
the  nature  of  many  similar  substances,  to  be  insoluble  in 
water,  and  therefore  incapable  of  being  affected  by  the  copi- 
ous rains  to  which  they  are  destined  to  be  exposed.     But  this 


184  HYBERNATION    OF    INSECTS. 

is  not  SO  remarkable  as  another  fact,  which  has  been  proved 
by  some  severe  tests,  and  which  shows  how  admirably  the 
constitution  of  these  eggs  is  adapted  to  the  season  of  winter. 
Both  Spallanzani  and  Hunter  made  experiments  to  ascertain 
the  degree  of  cold  which  the  eggs  of  insects  were  capable  of 
enduring  without  injury  ;  and  we  subjoin  the  statement  of  the 
latter : — '  I  have  exposed  eggs  to  a  more  rigorous  trial  than 
the  winter  of  1709.*  Those  of  several  insects,  and,  among 
others,  the  silk-worm,  moth,  and  elm-butterfly,  were  inclosed 
in  a  glass  vessel,  and  buried  five  hours  in  a  mixture  of  ice 
and  sal  gum  [rock  salt.)  The  thermometer  fell  6°  below  ze- 
ro. In  the  middle  of  the  following  spring,  however,  cater- 
pillars came  from  all  the  eggs,  and  at  the  same  time  as  from 
those  which  had  suffered  no  cold.  In  the  following  year  I 
submitted  them  to  an  experiment  still  more  hazardous.  A 
mixture  of  ice  and  sal  gum,  with  the  fuming  spirit  of  nitre 
{nitrate  of  ammonia).,  reduced  the  thermometer  22°  below 
zero, — that  is,  21°  lower  than  the  cold  of  1709.  They  were 
not  injured,  as  I  had  evident  proof,  by  their  being  hatched.' 

It  is,  indeed,  a  singular  and  unaccountable  fact,  that  the 
eggs  of  these  insects  are  incapable  of  being  frozen  even  by  the 
intense  cold  now  mentioned.  Spallanzani  discovered  this,  by 
crushing  some  of  them  with  the  nail,  while  subjected  to  the 
effects  of  the  freezing  mixture,  when  he  found  that  their  con- 
tents remained  fluid  ;  and  he  justly  infers,  that  the  included 
embryos  remained  equally  unfrozen.  The  final  cause  of  this 
is  easily  understood  ;  but  the  chemical  property  which  resists 
so  severe  a  trial,  has  not  been  ascertained. 

The  modes  by  which  instinct  has  taught  insects  to  preserve 
their  eggs  during  winter,  are  very  various.  One  of  these  I 
have  already  detailed  ;  but  before  leaving  the  subject,  there 
is  another  which,  on  account  of  its  singularity,  I  cannot  deny 
myself  the  pleasure  of  mentioning  ;  I  allude  to  the  cochineal 
insects  [coccidcB),  so  called  from  one  of  the  species  furnishing 

♦  The  year  1709  is  celebrated  for  its  rigour,  and  its  fatal  effects  on 
plants  and  animals.  Fahrenheit's  thermometer  fell  to  one  degree  below 
xero,  and  yet  the  insects  were  as  numerous  in  spring  as  ever. 


VARIOUS   STATES.  185 

the  well-known  valuable  dye-stuff  These  little  insects  con- 
trive to  render  their  dead  bodies  useful  to  their  future  proge- 
ny, by  protecting  their  eggs  from  the  severity  of  the  weather. 
They  die  in  the  act  of  incubation.  Their  eggs  are  deposit- 
ed under  their  bodies,  which  become  glued  to  the  spot,  and 
thus  serve  as  a  covering.  In  this  state  the  dead  insects  ap- 
pear on  the  bark  of  trees,  like  small  warts,  of  various  forms. 
The  mother  is  seldom  larger  than  a  pepper-corn,  yet  the 
number  of  eggs  which  she  lays  amounts  to  several  thousands. 
Some  of  them  secrete  a  sort  of  white  silky  gum,  very  like 
gossamer,  as  the  first  bed  of  their  eggs.  Various  naturalists 
have  supposed  this  substance  to  be  of  the  nature  of  the  spi- 
der's web  ;  but  the  author  of  '  Insect  Transformations '  says 
he  has  ascertained  it  to  be  '  precisely  similar  to  the  gluten 
which  envelops  the  eggs  of  most  insects.' 


SEVENTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

HYBERNATION    OF  INSECTS. VARIOUS    STATES. 

Turning  from  the  consideration  of  insect  eggs,  let  us  look 
to  some  of  the  other  means  which  the  Creator  has  employed 
for  preserving  these  minute  animals  during  the  rigorous  sea- 
son of  the  year.  Some  assume  the  chrysalis  form,  in  which 
state  they  require  no  food,  and  can  endure  a  greater  degree 
of  cold  than  in  their  more  perfect  condition,  though  they  are 
much  inferior,  in  this  respect,  to  the  eggs  already  mentioned. 
We  shall  take  an  example  of  this  method  of  hybernation 
from  the  butterfly  family,  which  is  remarkable  for  the  varie- 
ty of  modes  by  which  the  Author  of  Nature  has  provided  for 
ihe  safety  of  the  different  species.  The  history  of  the  large 
white  butterfly,  which  we  select,  is  not  perhaps  so  peculiar, 
among  the  insect  tribes,  as  it  is  remarkable.  It  undergoes  a 
double  round  of  transformations  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and 
its  instincts  are  wonderfully  adapted  to  the  state  of  the  season 
in  each.    From  the  chrysalis  state,  these  insects  assume  that  of 

16* 


186  HYBERNATION    OF   INSECTS. 

caterpillars,  about  the  last  days  of  April,  or  the  beginning  of 
the  following  month.  They  first  appear  on  wing  in  the 
middle  of  May,  and,  about  the  end  of  the  same  month,  lay 
their  eggs  in  clusters  on  the  under  side  of  cabbage-leaves. 
In  a  few  days  after,  the  caterpillars  come  forth,  and  continue 
to  feed  together  till  the  end  of  June,  when  they  are  at  their 
full  growth.  They  then  wander  about  in  search  of  conveni- 
ent places  to  fix  themselves,  where,  after  their  change,  the 
chrysalis  may  be  sheltered.  When  such  situations  are  found, 
they  each  fasten  their  tail  by  a  web,  and  carry  a  strong  thread 
of  the  same  round  their  body,  near  the  head  ;  and,  thus  firmly 
secured,  hang  a  few  hours,  during  which  the  chrysalis  becomes 
perfectly  formed,  and  divested  of  the  caterpillar's  skin.  In 
fourteen  days  after  this,  the  fly  is  on  the  wing.*  Such  is  the 
history  of  their  first  series  of  transformations.  But  a  long  pe- 
riod of  genial  weather  still  remains,  and  a  new  succession  of 
changes  takes  place.  The  butterfly  lays  its  eggs,  which  are 
again  converted  into  caterpillars,  and  about  the  end  of  Sep- 
tember these  caterpillars  become  chrysalides,  m  which  state 
they  are  prepared  to  pass  the  winter.  Now,  however,  as  if 
acquainted  with  the  change  which  nature  is  about  to  undergo, 
they  do  not  seek  for  protection  beneath  the  fading  vegetation 
which  formed  their  previous  retreat,  but  may  be  found  hang- 
ing under  the  copings  of  garden  walls,  under  pales,  and  in 
other  places,  where  they  can  have  a  tolerable  shelter  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  and  yet  be  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  their  food,  when  they  throw  off  this  state  of  inactivi- 
ty on  the  revival  of  nature  in  spring. 

An  instance  of  the  hybernation  of  insects,  in  the  caterpillar 
state,  may  be  found  in  another  branch  of  this  family,  that  of 
the  marsh  fritillary.  These  small  butterflies,  the  colour  of 
which  is  a  brownish  orange,  variegated  with  orange  and 
black,  are  found  in  the  caterpillar  state,  in  the  month  of  Sep- 
tember. As  the  season  advances,  they  spin  for  themselves  a 
fine  web,  in  which  they  congregate,  and  under  cover  of 
which  they  pass  the  winter.  During  this  time,  they  are  so 
♦  Goldsmith's  Animated  Nature,  Note,  vol.  iv.  p.  297. 


VARIOUS    STATES. 


187 


nearly  reduced  to  a  torpid  state  as  to  require  no  food ;  nor  do 
they  venture  out  of  their  covering,  till  invited  by  the  warmth 
of  spring.  They  have  not  yet  come  to  their  full  size,  and 
their  growth  is  suspended  during  winter.  If  we  pursue  their 
history  a  little  farther,  we  find  that,  about  the  end  of  April, 
they  are  in  full  maturity,  and,  suspending  themselves  by  the 
tail,  change  into  chrysalides.  '  Their  mode  of  suspension,' 
says  Captain  Brown,  '  is  a  singular  instance  of  the  extraor- 
dinary power  of  instinct.  They  first  draw  two  or  three  small 
blades  of  grass  across  towards  the  top,  and  fasten  them  togeth- 
er by  means  of  their  silk,  then  hang  themselves  beneath  the 
centre  of  these,  each  having  his  own  little  canopy.  By  this 
means  they  are  not  only  hidden  from  the  sight  of  birds,  but 
defended,  in  a  great  measure,  from  the  damage  they  might 
otherwise  sustain  from  windy  and  boisterous  weather.'* 

In  speaking  of  the  hybernation  of  caterpillars,  we  must  not 
forget  to  mention  a  beneficent  provision  by  which  many  spe- 
cies are  defended  from  the  cold  ;  we  allude  to  the  hair  which 
at  that  season  covers  their  bodies.  The  younger  Huber 
found  some  larvas  of  the  smaller  species  of  ants,  which  spend 
the  winter  heaped  up  in  the  lowermost  floor  of  their  dwell- 
ing ;  and  he  remarks,  that '  those  which  are  to  pass  the  win- 
ter in  this  state,  are  covered  with  hair,  which  is  not  the  case 
in  summer, — affording  another  proof  of  that  Providence  with 
which  naturalists  are  struck  at  every  step.'  Now,  the  very 
same  thing  occurs  among  various  tribes  of  caterpillars,  though 
it  is  by  no  means  the  case  with  all  insects  that  pass  the  win- 
ter in  this  form.  Even  those  which  envelope  themselves  in 
silken  shrouds,  have  generally  this  additional  protection,  of 
which  the  caterpillars  of  the  brown-tail  moth  and  mallow  but- 
terfly are  instances.  Some  are  thickly  clothed  with  hair  ;  a 
remarkable  example  of  which  occurs  in  the  caterpillar  of  the 
Drinker  moth,  whose  very  feet  are  covered  with  fine  shaggy 
down.  This  insect  does  not  become  torpid  in  winter  ;  and,  as 
it  feeds  on  grass,  it  can  always  find  plenty  of  food,  '  When 
a  fine  sunny  day  chances  to  break  in  upon  the  gloom  of  win 
♦  Goldsmith's  Animated  Nature,  Note,  p,  298. 


188  HYBERNATION   OF    INSECTS. 

ter,  this  pretty  insect  may  be  often  seen  stretclied  at  its  full 
length  on  a  low  twig,  or  the  withered  stem  of  a  nettle,  bask- 
ing in  the  sunshine  with  apparent  delight.'* 

Some  insects  survive  the  winter  in  their  perfect  state,  but 
these  are  comparatively  few.  Several  species  of  the  genus 
Vanessa  are  of  this  number ;  but  it  is  observed  by  Mr.  Ren- 
nie,  that  this  can  only  be  positively  affirmed  of  the  female. 
It  is  certain,  however,  that  even  in  this  state,  insects  will  bear 
an  almost  incredible  degree  of  cold  with  impunity.  We  ex- 
tract two  instances  recorded  in  the  publication  of  Mr.  Rennie  on 
Insect  Transformations,  already  alluded  to.f  '  In  Newfound- 
land, Captain  Buchan  saw  a  lake,  which  in  the  evenmg  was 
entirely  still  and  frozen  over  ;  but,  as  soon  as  the  sun  had  dis- 
solved the  ice  in  the  morning,  it  was  all  in  a  bustle  of  anima- 
tion, in  consequence,  as  was  discovered,  of  myriads  of  flies  let 
loose,  while  many  still  remained  infixed  and  frozen  round.' 
A  still  more  striking  instance  is  mentioned  by  Ellis,  in  which 
'  a  large  black  mass,  like  coal  or  peat  upon  the  hearth,  dissolv- 
ed, Avhen  thrown  upon  the  fire,  into  a  cloud  of  musquitoes 
(CulicidiE).'' 

One  other  remarkable  instance  I  shall  mention,  not  only 
because  it  relates  to  another  form  of  the  hybernating  princi- 
ple, but  also  because  it  throws  light  upon  a  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture which  some  sceptical  naturalists  were  inclined  to  consider 
as  founded  on  mistake.  The  passage  is  from  the  Proverbs  of 
Solomon,  whose  wisdom  and  intelligence  the  infidel  would 
be  glad  to  impugn  if  he  could  :  '  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard  ; 
consider  her  ways,  and  be  wise ;  which  having  no  guide, 
overseer,  nor  ruler,  provideth  her  meat  in  the  summer,  and 
gathereth  her  food  in  the  harvest.'^  It  has  been  alleged, that 
the  ant  has  no  such  instinct ;  that,  indeed,  if  she  had,  it  would 
be  altogether  useless  to  her,  as  in  winter  she  falls  into  a  state 
of  torpidity ;  and  that  Solomon  must,  therefore,  have  mis- 
taken for  her  winter  store,  the  larvae  of  this  insect,  which  she 

♦  Insect  Transformations,  p.  193.    t  Insect  Transformations,  p.  406. 
J  Proverbs  vi.  6. 


VARIOUS    STATES.  189 

tends  with  much  assiduity,  and  which  are  found  carefully  de- 
posited in  her  nest.  But  it  is  gratifying  to  the  pious  mind  to 
observe  in  how  many  instances  the  discoveries  of  science 
throw  light  on  the  difficult  passages  of  Scripture  ;  and  prove 
the  accuracy  of  its  statements,  even  in  matters  of  natural  his- 
tory, which  it  incidentally  notices.  Of  these  instances  this  is 
one.  It  is  true  that,  in  climates  such  as  that  of  Europe,  where 
the  cold  of  winter  is  intense,  the  ant  does  fall  into  a  state  of 
torpidity ;  and,  as  if  she  anticipated  this  state,  she  makes  no 
provision  for  the  severity  of  winter.  But  it  is  different,  at 
least  with  one  species  of  ant,  in  India,  named  by  Mr.  Hope 
the  Provision  Ant,  as  is  stated  by  Mr.  Kirby,  on  the  authori- 
ty of  Colonel  Sykes.  '  These  ants,'  says  Mr.  Kirby,  '  after 
long-continued  rains,  during  the  monsoon,  were  found  to 
bring  up,  and  lay  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  on  a  fine  day, 
their  stores  of  grass-seeds,  and  grains  of  Guinea-corn,  for  the 
purpose  of  drying  them.  Many  scores  of  these  hoards  were 
frequently  observable  on  the  extensive  parade  at  Poena- 
This  account,'  he  adds, '  clearly  proves  that,  where  the  cli- 
mate and  their  circumstances  require  it,  these  industrious  crea- 
tures do  store  up  provisions.'  The  storing  propensity  of  the 
ant,  thus  attested,  serves  to  indicate  the  accuracy  of  Solomon's 
information  ;  and,  after  this  discovery,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that,  though  the  naturalist,  who  is  too  little  acquainted 
with  the  animals  of  the  Holy  Land,  has  not  yet  ascertained 
the  fact  by  actual  observation,  these  insects  do  in  that  country 
follow  a  similar  instinct  during  its  mild  winter.  And  let  it 
not  be  overlooked,  that  this  is  another  instance  of  that  remark- 
able adaptation  of  instinct  to  circumstances,  of  which  the  or- 
ganized creation  is  full. 

The  immense  variety  of  the  insect  tribes,  and  the  inex- 
haustible resources  of  the  Author  of  Nature  in  accommoda- 
ting their  instincts  and  functions  to  their  peculiar  circumstan- 
ces and  condition,  precludes  the  possibility  of  comprising  any 
thing  like  a  particular  detail  of  the  manner  in  which  the  va- 
rious tribes  are  enabled  to  pass  the  winter  months,  within  the 
bounds  we  have  prescribed  to  ourselves.     The  above  sketch 


190  HYBERNATION    OF   BEES. 

will  suffice  to  afford  some  insight  into  these  wonderful  and 
diversified  provisions,  and  to  direct  the  reader  to  inquiries 
which  will  amply  repay  his  industry,  and  which  he  will  find 
grow  upon  him  at  every  step.  Some  observations  on  the  hy- 
bernation of  the  honey-bee,  the  snail,  and  the  beetle,  which 
Avill  be  found  in  subsequent  papers,  must  close  my  observa- 
tions on  this  part  of  the  history  of  insects.  Their  still  more 
astonishing  faculties  and  modes  of  existence,  in  the  other  sea- 
sons of  the  year,  shall  be  considered  afterwards. 


SEVENTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

HYBERNATION   OF   BEES. 

Among  insects,  there  is  none  more  commonly  known,  or 
more  universally  admired  for  its  extraordinary  instincts,  than 
the  honey  bee.  Of  these  instincts,  such  as  are  intended 
for  its  preservation  during  winter,  come  particularly  under 
our  notice  at  present ;  but  it  may  be  proper  to  premise  a  few 
words  as  to  the  general  state  and  economy  of  this  wonderful 
insect.  The  inhabitants  of  a  hive  have  been  usually  divided 
into  three  distinct  classes,  viz.  the  queen,  the  drones,  and  the 
workers ;  but  it  has  been  recently  discovered  that  there  is 
yet  another  distinct  class,  or  at  least  that  the  working-bees  may 
be  divided  into  two  separate  tribes  or  castes,  called  Nurse-bees 
and  Wax-ivorkers.  This  last  distinction,  which  is  not  gene- 
rally known,  was  ascertained  by  M.  Huber,  and  is  too  curi- 
ous to  be  passed  over,  especially  as  it  is  on  the  wax-workers 
tha^  the  provision  of  winter  food  entirely  devolves.  The 
business  of  the  nurse-bees,  which  are  somewhat  smaller  than 
the  wax-workers,  is  to  collect  honey  for  the  immediate  subsist- 
ence of  those  which  do  not  leave  the  hive,  as  well  as  of  the 
young  grubs,  of  which  latter  they  seem  to  have  the  special 
charge ;  and  also  to  give  the  finishing  touches  to  the  cells  and 
combs  left  imperfect  by  the  others.  The  duty  of  the  wax- 
workers,  on  the  other  hand,  is  to  provide  cells,  in  which  the 


HYBERNATION    OF    BEES.  191 

queen  may  deposit  her  eggs,  and  reservoirs,  in  which  they 
may  store  the  honey  for  future  use  ;  and  it  has  been  found,  by 
accurate  observation,  that  the  one  caste  does  not  interfere  with 
the  functions  of  the  other.  The  offices  of  the  queen  and  of 
the  drones  are  well  known  ;  the  former  being  the  absolute 
monarch  of  the  hive,  and  the  mother  of  its  progeny  ;  the  lat- 
ter being  all  males,  and  intended  by  nature  for  the  fecunda- 
tion of  the  queen.  Of  the  drones,  it  is  said  that  there  are  not 
more  than  the  proportion  of  100  to  a  hive  consisting  of  5000 
or  6000.  Of  the  queens,  though  several  are  produced,  only 
one  is  permitted  to  live,  this  autocrat  bearing  no  rival  near 
her  throne. 

Such  being  the  remarkable  constitution  of  this  industrious 
community,  let  us  now  see  in  what  manner  they  are  directed 
by  the  Author  of  their  instincts  to  secure  themselves  against 
the  sterility  of  the  winter  months.  First  of  all,  it  seems  to  be 
a  law  of  this  little  commonwealth,  that  no  idlers  shall  be  per 
mitted  to  exist.  The  drones  contribute  nothing  to  the  wealth 
of  the  hive.  They  have  fulfilled  their  part  as  soon  as  the 
queen  is  rendered  fruitful ;  and,  when  this  important  point 
has  been  gained,  and  the  hive  has  been  secured  in  the  means 
of  future  increase,  or,  at  least,  before  any  serious  and  united 
effort  is  made  to  complete  the  winter's  provision,  the  unfortu- 
nate drones  are  condemned  to  utter  extermination.  In  July 
or  August,  the  whole  working  classes  seem  to  be  suddenly 
seized  with  a  deadly  fury  towards  the  unproductive  part  of 
the  great  family.  They  chase  their  unhappy  victims  from 
every  place  of  refuge,  till  at  last  they  are  brought  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hive,  where  they  are  indiscriminately  massacred, 
their  bodies  being  transfixed  with  many  wounds,  and  then 
thrown  lifeless  out  of  the  hive.  So  great  is  their  antipathy, 
at  this  time,  to  the  whole  race  of  drones,  that  they  simulta- 
neously destroy  the  male  larvae,  and  tear  open  the  cocoons  of 
their  pupae,  in  order  to  devote  them  to  one  common  destruc- 
tion. '  This  destruction  of  the  males,  however,'  says  a  wri- 
ter in  the  Supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica, '  is  not 
the  effect  of  a  blind  and  indiscriminating  instinct ;  for  if  a 


192  HYBERNATION    OP   BEES. 

hive  be  deprived  of  its  queen,  the  massacre  does  not  take 
place,  while  the  hottest  persecution  rages  in  all  the  surround- 
ing hives.  In  this  case,  the  males  are  allowed  to  survive  one 
winter.'  The  providential  design  of  this  doubtless  is,  that, 
should  a  young  queen  be  reared,  she  may  find  a  husband. 

No  sooner  has  the  hive  got  rid  of  the  encumbrance  of  the 
drones,  than  they  commence,  with  the  greatest  assiduity,  to 
lay  up  their  winter  stores.  During  the  preceding  months  of 
summer,  honey  was  to  be  found  in  great  abundance,  being 
yielded  by  almost  every  flower  ;  and  they  had  partly  availed 
themselves  of  that  season  of  exuberance,  to  replenish  their 
cells.  But  they  had  not  set  about  the  matter  in  good  earnest ; 
— they  had  considered  it  as  a  pastime,  rather  than  as  a  task  : 
— when  they  poured  the  delicious  food  into  their  cells,  it 
would  seem  to  have  been  rather  with  the  view  of  disgorging 
a  too  plentiful  meal,  and  of  relieving  themselves  from  the  ef- 
fects of  gluttony,  than  from  any  care  about  the  future.  They 
had  been  luxuriating  in  overflowing  sweets,  and  were  little 
careful  of  a  coming  season  of  scarcity 

Now,  however,  the  state  of  things  is  altered.  Though  the 
season  is  still  fine,  the  honey-bearing  flowers  have  begun  to 
appear  in  less  plenty,  and  much  remains  to  be  done  with  di- 
minished means.  The  young  brood  are  fast  vacating  the 
cells,  where  they  were  hatched,  and  these  cradles  must  now 
be  converted  into  storehouses.  All  is  bustle  and  animation. 
Not  an  idler  is  to  be  seen.  The  queen,  like  a  presiding  ge- 
nius, hurries  from  place  to  place,  to  see  that  all  are  at  their 
proper  tasks.  Some  clean  out  the  emptied  cells,  or  rather 
smooth  and  prepare  them,  for  the  cocoons  of  the  maggots 
are  never  removed  ;  others  repair  the  wax,  where  injured,  or, 
if  necessary,  construct  new  depositories  ;  while  others  again, 
fly  far  and  wide  in  search  of  the  honey  and  pollen,  which  are 
to  form  the  treasure  of  the  hive,  and  to  preserve  them  from 
want  in  the  winter,  and  early  days  of  the  future  spring.  The 
eagerness  and  industry  of  these  tiny  foragers,  is  quite  delight- 
ful. Not  only  do  they  rifle  the  nectaries  of  flowers,  especial- 
ly those  of  the  clover  and  heath,  but  put  in  requisition  the 


HYBERNATION    OF   BEES.  193 

ripening  fruits,  when  pierced  by  birds,  and  the  leaves  of  some 
trees,  from  which  a  saccharine  fluid,  at  this  season,  exudes, 
and  even  the  honey-dew,  as  it  is  called, — an  excrement  emit- 
ted by  the  aphides. 

It  sometimes  happens,  however,  that  an  unfavourable  har- 
vest causes  all  these  resources  to  fail,  and  a  coming  famine  is 
anticipated.  The  bees  are  then  thrown  upon  their  shifts,  and 
the  law  of  self-preservation  overcomes  the  respect  which  they 
seem  otherwise  inclined  to  show  to  the  property  of  their  neigh- 
bours. '  On  these  occasions,'  says  the  author  of  the  article  in 
the  Supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia,  already  alluded  to, '  the 
distressed  bees  often  betake  themselves  to  plunder.  Spies  are 
sent  out  to  examine  the  neighbouring  hives.  Allured  by  the 
smell  of  honey,  they  examine  the  appearance  and  strength  of 
its  possessors  ;  and,  selecting  the  weakest  hive  as  the  object 
of  attack,  they  begin  a  furious  onset,  which  costs  great  num- 
bers their  lives.  If  the  invaders  should  fail  in  their  attempt 
to  force  the  entrance,  they  retreat,  and  are  not  pursued  by 
those  they  have  assailed  ;  but  if  they  succeed  in  making  good 
the  assault,  the  war  continues  to  rage  in  the  interior  of  the 
hive,  till  one  party  is  utterly  exterminated ; — reinforcements 
are  sent  for  by  the  invading  army ; — and  the  bees  from  the 
neighbouring  hives  often  join  the  assailants,  and  partake  of 
the  plunder.  In  a  short  time,  the  whole  of  the  enemies' 
magazines  are  completely  emptied.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  invaders  should  be  defeated,  the  successful  party  is  by  no 
means  safe  from  the  attacks  of  the  bees  from  other  hives,  if 
any  of  them  should  chance  to  have  mingled  in  the  fray,  and 
especially  if  they  have  once  penetrated  as  far  as  the  maga- 
zines ;  for,  in  that  case,  they  are  sure  to  return,  accompanied 
with  a  large  reinforcement ;  and  the  unfortunate  hive  that 
has  been  once  attacked,  ultimately  falls  a  sacrifice  to  those  re- 
peated invasions.' 

Meanwhile,  the  year  advances,  and  the  increasing  cold 
warns  the  little  commonwealth  that  it  is  dangerous  to  go 
abroad ;  and,  indeed,  the  growing  deficiency  of  their  natural 
food,  convinces  them,  before  the  end  of  autumn,  that  the  pe- 

voL.  rv.  17 


194  HYBERiNATIO.\     OF     BEES. 

riod  of  cessation  from  labour  out  of  doors  has  arrived.  They 
now  live  on  their  collected  provisions,  till  the  reduced  tem- 
perature of  the  atmosphere  causes  them  to  lose  their  appetite, 
and  to  become  torpid.  The  sleep  of  this  little  insect  is  by  no 
means  so  deep,  or  so  continuous,  as  that  of  many  other  species 
of  animals  ;  and,  had  not  the  Creator  endowed  them  with  the 
wonderful  industry  and  forethought  we  have  described,  the 
whole  species  would  soon  have  become  extinct  in  this  north. 
em  climate,  and  indeed  in  almost  any  climate  of  the  temper- 
ate zone.  Some  naturalists  have  even  disputed  the  fact  of 
the  torpidity  of  the  bee,  under  any  ordinary  circumstances  ; 
while  others  have  gone  to  an  opposite  extreme.  We  believe 
there  is  no  doubt,  that  in  an  equable  temperature  approach- 
ing to  frost,  bees  do  become  torpid, — a  proof  of  which  is  to  be 
found  in  the  fact,  that  a  hive,  buried,  in  the  beginning  of  win- 
ter, under  ground,  will  survive  till  spring,  when  it  may  be 
disinterred  in  a  healthy  state,  without  much  exhaustion  of  its 
winter  stock.  Now,  it  has  been  proved  by  various  experi- 
ments, that  a  current  of  air  through  a  hive  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  the  existence  of  bees  in  their  active  state,  and  that 
this  ventilation  is  kept  up  by  means  of  the  bees  themselves, 
who  use  their  wings  for  that  purpose,  which  produces  the  hum- 
ming noise  to  be  observed  in  hives.  Were  the  bees,  therefore, 
when  buried,  awake  and  active,  they  would  assuredly  be  suf- 
focated. Several  of  our  most  celebrated  naturalists,  however 
(and,  among  the  rest,  the  elder  Huber).  affirm  positively,  that 
bees  do  not  become  torpid  in  winter.  He  says,  that  the  heat 
of  a  well-peopled  hive  is  as  high  as  86°  of  Fahrenheit,  even  in 
the  depth  of  winter,  when  the  thermometer,  in  the  open  air, 
is  several  degrees  below  zero,  this  heat  being  generated  by 
the  bees  clustering  together,  and  keeping  themselves  in  mo- 
lion  ;  and  that,  even  in  this  degree  of  external  cold,  they  may 
be  heard  buzzing,  as  they  always  do  when  ventillating  the 
hive.  Reaumur,  as  well  as  other  distinguished  observers,  as 
positively  maintains  the  opposite,  and  more  popular,  opinion. 
Our  own  belief  is,  that  the  truth  lies  between ; — that  the  or 
dinary  state  of  a  hive,  in  cold  weather,  is,  as  we  have  already 


HYBERNATION    OF    BEES.  195 

observed,  a  state  of  torpidity,  but  that  the  bees  are  easily  ex- 
cited, and  that,  when  roused,  the  temperature  of  the  hive 
quickly  rises,  in  proportion  to  their  alarm  or  irritation. 
While  we  think,  therefore,  that  Ruber's  experience  may  thus 
be  accounted  for,  we  heartily  acquiesce  in  the  following  ob- 
servations of  Reaumur,  taken  as  expressing-  the  general  state 
of  a  hive  in  winter-  '  It  has  been  established,'  says  he,  '  with 
a  wisdom  which  we  cannot  but  admire — with  which  every 
thing  in  nature  has  been  made  and  ordained — that,  during 
the  greater  part  of  the  time  in  which  the  country  furnishes 
nothing  to  bees,  they  have  no  longer  need  to  eat.  The  cold, 
which  arrests  the  vegetation  of  plants, — which  deprives  our 
fields  and  meadows  of  their  flowers,  throws  the  bees  into  a 
state  in  which  nourishment  ceases  to  be  necessary  to  them ; 
it  keeps  them  in  a  sort  of  torpidity,  in  which  no  transpiration 
from  them  takes  place,  or  at  least  during  which  the  quantity 
of  what  transpires  is  so  inconsiderable,  that  it  cannot  be  re- 
stored by  aliment,  without  their  lives  being  endangered.' 

The  following  humane  observations,  in  a  recent  publica- 
tion, are  well  worthy  of  attention,  and  we  strongly  recom- 
mend to  bee-breeders  the  practice  of  Mr.  Nutt,  as  detailed  by 
this  author,  by  which  the  cruelty  he  deprecates  may  be  avoid- 
ed, even  with  profit. 

'  The  usual  practice  of  obtaining  honey  from  domestic  bees, 
was  one  of  great,  and,  as  it  should  seem,  wanton  and  unne- 
cessary cruelty.  The  little  creatures,  after  they  had  toiled 
throughout  the  whole  season,  were  not  only  deprived  of  all 
the  winter  store  which  they  had  accumulated,  but  they  were 
smoked  with  sulphur  in  the  hive,  by  means  of  which  both 
old  and  young  were  entirely  cut  off.  There  is  a  degree  of 
unfeeling  cruelty  m  this,  at  which  the  mind  revolts  ;  because, 
though  all  creatures  are,  in  some  ivay  or  other,  adapted  for  the 
use  of  man,  the  destruction  of  the  creatures  is  no  part  of  man's 
legitimate  occupation.  He  has,  undoubtedly,  a  right  to  his 
share  of  every  production  of  the  earth,  which  can  in  any  way 
contribute  to  his  comfort ;  but  it  is  his  duty  and  his  interest  to 
take  that  share,  in  wisdom,  not  in  wantonness  ;  and  he  could. 


196  HYBERNATION    OF    BEES. 

upon  every  occasion,  so  manage  matters,  as  that  the  quantity 
which  he  takes,  might  benefit  that  which  is  left ;  and  thus, 
while  he  uses,  he  might  ameliorate  and  improve  all  that 
grows  and  lives  around  him  ;  and  so  be  the  adorner  of  crea- 
tion, and  not  the  destroyer. 

'  Many  plans  have  been  resorted  to,  for  the  preservation  of 
bees,  and  the  leaving  of  as  much  honey  as  shall  support  them 
during  winter.  One  of  the  most  recent,  and  perhaps  the 
best  of  these,  is  that  introduced  by  Mr.  Nutt,  a  cultivator  of 
bees  in  Lincolnshire.  In  this  method,  three  boxes  are  placed 
together,  with  a  door  for  entrance  in  the  central  box  only, 
but  with  a  communication  between  it  and  each  of  the  lateral 
ones.  By  means  of  ventilation,  the  two  side  boxes  are  kept 
ai  a  heat  which  is  well  adapted  for  labouring  bees,  but  below 
that  at  which  the  young  are  hatched.  The  bees  are  placed, 
at  first,  in  the  central  box  only  ;  and  when  the  first  swarm  of 
the  season  is  produced,  and  would  depart,  admission  is  giv- 
en to  one  of  the  side  boxes  ;  and,  when  that  is  filled,  similar 
admission  is  given  into  the  other.  The  temperature  of  these 
is  regulated  by  means  of  ventilators ;  and,  when  it  is  ascer- 
tained that  one  of  them  is  full,  as  much  ventilation  is  given  to 
it,  as  drives  all  the  bees  into  the  central  box  ;  the 'communi- 
cation between  them  is  closed,  and  the  box  is  removed,  with- 
out the  destruction  of  a  single  bee. 

'  This  is  not  the  only  advantage  gained  ;  for  the  honey  is 
purer,  and  altogether  of  superior  quality.  The  low  tempera- 
ture of  the  side  boxes  not  only  prevents  a  queen  bee  from 
taking  up  her  abode  in  them  ;  but  none  of  the  eggs,  the 
young,  or  the  substances  required  for  their  nourishment  in 
the  larva  state,  are  ever  deposited  in  those  boxes.  Thus  they 
contain  only  honey-cells  and  honey  ;  and  as  those  cells  are 
constructed  only  when  they  are  required,  the  combs  are  al- 
ways full. 

'  By  this  means,  from  one  swarm  of  bees,  cultivated  for  five 
yca/B,  Mr.  Nutt  obtained  737  lbs.  of  honey,  and  left  712  lbs. 
during  the  currency  of  the  time  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
bees,  the  increase  of  which  was  regularly  progressing  du- 


HYBERNATION    OF   THE    SNAIL.  197 

ring  the  whole  time,  which,  from  its  superior  quality,  would 
be  worth  fourteen  guineas,  on  the  average  of  every  year,  be- 
sides the  expense  of  bringing  it  to  market.  There  are  very 
many  situations  in  this  country,  where  every  cottager  might 
cultivate  one  such  establishment  of  bees,  the  profits  of  which 
would  suffice  to  furnish  himself  and  his  family  with  comfor- 
table clothing,  and  also  to  replace  their  household  furniture.'* 


SEVENTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

HYBERNATION    OF    THE    SNAIL. 

The  garden-snail  has  its  congeners  in  the  waters,  which, 
in  outward  appearance,  bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  it ; 
but  its  habits  and  instincts  are  quite  different  from  those  of 
the  same  genus  in  another  element.  It  is  admirably  adapted 
to  its  mode  of  life,  and  is  furnished  with  organs  almost  as  com- 
plete as  the  largest  animal ;  with  a  tongue,  brain,  salival  ducts, 
glands,  nerves,  stomach,  and  intestines  ;  with  liver,  heart,  and 
blood-vessels.  These  it  possesses  in  common  with  other  ani- 
mals,  but  it  has  some  striking  peculiarities, — one  of  which  is, 
that,  of  four  flexible  horns  with  which  it  is  fui-nished,  the 
two  uppermost  are  gifted  with  eyes,  which  appear  like  black 
spots  on  their  extreme  ends,  and  which  it  can  hide,  by  a  very 
swift  contraction,  in  the  interior  of  its  body.  Every  one 
knows,  that  another  peculiarity  which  distinguishes  it  from 
other  land  animals,  is  its  shell,  which  it  carries  on  its  back 
wherever  it  goes,  and  which  serves  at  once  as  its  house  for 
lodging,  and  as  its  armour  for  defence. 

The  history  of  this  animal,  so  far  as  it  suits  our  present 
purpose  to  advert  to  it,  is  as  follows : — Each  individual  snail 
is  both  a  father  and  a  mother ;  and  it  lays  its  eggs  in  shady 
and  moist  hollows,  which  it  excavates  with  a  member  which 
is  called  its  foot,  as  by  this  it  has  the  power  of  locomotion 
These  eggs  are  hatched,  sooner  or  later,  according  to  the  tem 
♦  Mudie's  edition  of  Wesley's  Natural  Philosophy,  vol.  ii.  pp.  264,  266. 


198  HVBER.\ATION    OF    THE    SNAIL. 

peraturCj  producing    little  snails,  exactly  resembling   their 
parent,  but  so  delicate  that  a  sun-stroke  destroys  them,  so  that 
few,  comparatively  speaking,  reach  the  end  of  the  first  year, 
when  they  are  sufficiently  defended  by  the  hardness  of  their 
shell.     The  animal,  at  its  first  exclusion,  lives  solely  on  the  pel- 
licle of  the  egg  from  which  it  was  produced.     '  Providence,' 
as  Kirby  justly  observes,  '  which,  in  oviparous  and  other  an- 
imals, has  provided  for  the  first  nutriment  of  the  young  in 
different  ways,  appropriating  the  milk  of  the  mother  to  the 
young  of  quadrupeds,  th£  yolk  of  the  egg  to  those  of  birds, 
tortoises,  and  lizards,  and  the  white  of  the  egg  to  frogs  and 
toads,  has  made  this  pellicle,  or  coat,  the  best  nutriment  of 
the  young  snail.     In  fact,  this  pellicle,  consisting  of  carbon- 
ate of  lime,  united  to  animal  substance,  is  necessary  to  pro- 
duce the  calcareous  secretion  of  the  mantle,  and  to  consolidate 
the  shell,  as  yet  too  soft  for  exposure.'     When  this  natural 
envelope  is  eaten,  the  young  snail  finds  its  nourishment  in 
the  vegetable  soil  around  it.     After  the  concealment  of  a 
month,  it  appears  on  the  vegetable  productions  of  the  garden 
or  meadow,  which  it  seems  indiscriminately  to  devour, — its 
house  still  growing  with  its  growth,  till  it  has  completed  five 
convolutions,  by  which  time  the  animal  has  attained  its  full 
size. 

These  snails  cease  feeding  when  the  first  chills  of  autumn 
are  felt ;  and  generally  associating  in  considerable  numbers, 
on  hillocks,  in  the  banks  of  ditches,  or  in  thickets  and  hedges, 
they  set  above  their  preparations  for  their  winter  retreat. 
They  first  expel  the  contents  of  their  intestines,  and  then, 
concealing  themselves  under  moss,  grass,  or  dead  leaves,  each 
forms,  by  means  of  its  foot,  and  the  viscid  mucus  which  it 
secretes,  a  cavity  large  enough  to  contain  its  shell.  The 
mode  in  which  it  effects  this  is  remarkable ;  collecting  a  con- 
siderable quantity  of  the  mucus  on  the  sole  of  its  foot,  a  por- 
tion of  earth  and  dead  leaves  adheres  to  it,  which  it  shakes 
off  on  one  side  ;  a  second  portion  is  again  collected  and  depos- 
ited, and  so  on,  till  it  has  reared  around  itself  a  kind  of  wall, 
of  suflficient  height  to  form  a  cavity  that  will  contain  its  shell ; 


HVBEPwNATlON    OF    THE    SNAIL.  199 

and  then,  by  turning  itself  round,  it  presses  against  the  sides, 
which  renders  them  smooth  and  firm.  The  dome,  or  cover- 
ing, is  formed  in  the  same  way ;  earth  is  collected  on  the 
foot,  which  it  then  turns  upward,  and  throws  off  by  exuding 
fresh  mucus  ;  and  this  is  repeated,  till  a  perfect  roof  is  formed. 
Having  now  completed  its  winter  house,  it  draws  in  its  foot, 
covering  it  with  the  mantle,  and  opens  its  spiracle  to  draw  in 
the  air.  On  closing  this,  it  forms,  with  its  slime,  a  fine  mem- 
brane, interposed  between  the  mantle  and  extraneous  sub- 
stances. Soon  afterwards,  the  mantle  secretes  a  large  portion 
of  very  white  fluid  over  its  whole  surface,  which  instantly 
sets  uniformly,  and  forms  a  kind  of  solid  operculum,  like 
plaster  of  Paris,  about  half  a  line  in  thickness,  which  accu- 
rately closes  the  mouth.  When  this  is  become  hard,  the  ani- 
mal separates  the  mantle  from  it.  After  a  time,  expelling  a 
portion  of  the  air  it  had  inspired,  and  thus  being  reduced  in 
bulk,  it  retreats  a  little  farther  into  the  shell,  when  it  forms 
another  leaf  of  mucus  ;  and  it  continues  repeating  this  opera- 
tion, till  there  are  sometimes  five  or  six  of  these  leaves,  form- 
ing cells  filled  with  air  between  it  and  the  operculum.  Re- 
spiration ceases  during  the  period  of  hybernation.* 

The  mode  in  which  these  animals  escape  from  their  win- 
ter confinement  is  singular : — The  air  which  they  had  ex- 
pired, on  retiring  into  their  shell  farther  and  farther,  remains 
between  the  different  partitions  of  the  mucus  membrane 
above  mentioned,  which  forms  so  many  shells  hermetically 
sealed  ;  this  they  again  inspire,  and  thus  acquiring  fresh  vi- 
gour, each  separate  partition,  as  they  proceed,  is  broken  by 
the  pressure  of  the  foot,  projected  in  part  through  the  mantle ; 
— when  arrived  at  the  operculum,  they  burst  in  by  a  strong 
effort,  and  finally  detaching  it,  then  emerge,  begin  to  walk, 
and  to  break  their  long  fast ! 

'  In  all  these  proceedings,'  observes  Mr.  Kirby,  after  record- 
ing the  above  details,  '  the  superintending  care  and  wise 
provisions  of  a  Father-Being  are  evident.     This  creature  can 

*  Goldsmith  is  mistaken  when  he  says,  that  the  snail  opens  an  air- 
hole into  its  shell. — Gaspard  and  Bell;  Zoological  Journal,!.  93;  ii.  174. 


200  HIBERNATION    OF    THE    BEETLE. 

neither  foresee  the  degree  of  cold  to  which  it  may  be  exposed 
in  its  state  of  hybernation,  nor  know  by  what  means  it  may 
secure  itself  from  the  fatal  effects  it  would  produce  upon  it, 
if  not  provided  against. 

'  But,  at  a  destined  period,  often  w^hen  the  range  of  the 
thermometer  is  high,  not  stimulated  by  a  cold  atmosphere, — 
except  perhaps  by  the  increasing  length  of  the  night, — at  the 
bidding  of  some  secret  power,  it  sets  about  erecting  its  winter 
dwelling  ;  and,  employing  its  foot,  not  only  as  a  shovel  to 
make  its  mortar,  but  as  a  hod  to  transport  it,  and  a  trowel  to 
spread  it  duly  and  evenly,  at  length  finishes  and  covers  in 
its  snug  and  warm  retreat ;  and  then,  still  farther  to  secure 
itself  from  the  action  of  the  atmosphere,  with  the  slimy  secre- 
tion with  which  its  Maker  has  gifted  it,  fixes  partition  after 
partition,  and  fills  each  cell,  formed  by  it,  with  air,  till  it  has 
retreated  as  far  as  it  can  from  every  closed  orifice  of  its  shell, 
and  thus  barricades  itself  against  a  frozen  death.  Again,  in 
the  spring,  when  the  word  is  spoken, — Awake  thou  that  steep- 
est, it  begins  immediately  to  act  with  energy  ;  it  re-inspire?, 
as  above  related,  the  air  stored  in  its  cells ;  bursts  all  its  cere- 
ments ;  returns  to  its  summer  haunts,  and  again  lays  waste 
our  gardens.'* 


SEVENTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

HYBERNATION    OF    THE    BEETLE. ANII\LA.LCULES    IN    PASTE. 

Among  insects,  the  beetle  has  some  peculiar  instincts  which 
will  come  more  properly  under  our  observation  at  another 
season.  At  present,  I  shall  only  mention  three  instances  of 
remarkable  habits  relating  to  the  state  of  particular  species 
of  this  insect  in  winter.  Beetles,  it  may  be  premised,  are 
distinguished  from  other  tribes  of  the  same  order,  by  being 
furnished  with  cases  to  cover  two  transparent  wings.  Like 
other  insects,  they  are  bred  from  eggs,  which  first  become 

♦  Kirby's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  pp.  285-289, 


HYBERNATION  OF  THE  BEETLE.  201 

grubs ;  then  chrysalides,  in  which  parts  of  the  future  fly 
are  distinctly  seen ;  and,  lastly,  assuming  their  perfect  or 
imago  state,  they  acquire  wings,  and  mount  into  the  air. 

The  first  species  of  this  little  animal  which  I  shall  intro- 
duce to  the  notice  of  my  readers,  is  the  May-bug,  or  Dorr- 
beetle,  well  known  to  children  by  its  evening  buzz  during 
the  months  of  summer.  In  its  maggot  state,  in  which  it  re- 
mains, without  any  other  change  than  increase  of  size  and 
the  annual  renewal  of  its  skin,  for  no  less  a  period  than  three 
years,  it  burrows  under  ground,  so  near  the  surface  as  to 
devour  the  roots  of  plants,  on  which  it  feeds  voraciously,  and 
without  discrimination.  When  largest,  it  is  found  an  inch 
and  a  half  long,  of  a  whitish-yellow  colour,  with  a  body  con- 
sisting of  twelve  segment  or  joints,  on  each  side  of  which 
there  are  nine  breathing  holes,  and  three  red  feet ;  but  it  is 
destitute  of  eyes,  having  no  occasion  for  them  in  its  natural 
habitation,  where  light  does  not  penetrate, — here  exhibiting 
a  new  and  remarkable  instance  of  the  attention  of  the  Crea- 
tor, in  adapting  the  faculties  of  creatures  to  the  situation  for 
which  they  are  destined,  as  well  in  what  he  withholds  as  in 
what  he  grants. 

Towards  the  conclusion  of  the  fourth  year  of  its  existence, 
it  begins  to  provide  itself  a  secure  winter  habitation,  with  a 
view  to  its  future  condition.  About  the  latter  end  of  August, 
it  seems  first  to  come  under  the  influence  of  that  extraordi 
nary  instinct,  which  leads  it  to  prepare  for  its  important  change 
It  then  buries  itself  deeper  and  deeper  in  the  earth,  some 
times,  in  favourable  situations,  to  the  depth  of  six  feet,  and 
there  forms  for  itself  a  capacious  apartment,  the  walls  of 
which  it  renders  very  smooth  and  shining,  by  the  exertions 
of  its  body.  Its  abode  being  thus  formed,  it  begins  soon  af- 
ter to  shorten  itself,  to  swell,  and  to  burst  its  last  skin,  in  or- 
der to  assume  the  form  of  a  chrysalis.  This,  in  the  begin- 
ning, appears  of  a  yellowish  colour,  which  heightens  by  de- 
grees, till  at  last  it  appears  nearly  red.  Its  exterior  form 
plainly  discovers  all  the  vestiges  of  the  future  winged  insect, 


202  HYBERNATION  OF  THE  BEETLE. 

the  entire  fore-parts  being  distinctly  seen  ;  while,  behind,  the 
animal  seems  as  if  wrapped  in  swaddling-clothes. 

The  young  May-bug  continues  in  this  state  for  nearly 
three  months,  and  then  divests  itself  of  all  its  impediments, 
and  becomes  a  winged  insect,  completely  formed.  This  hap- 
pens about  the  beginning  of  the  year  ;  but  it  is  not  yet  time 
for  it  to  emerge  into  open  day,  the  season  of  the  year  being 
nnpropitious  to  its  new  habits.  Unlike  most  other  insects, 
therefore,  which,  immediately  after  their  change,  enter  at 
once  into  all  the  enjoyments  of  their  new  being,  it  remains 
in  a  state  of  infant  imbecility  for  four  months  longer,  during 
which  time,  though  without  food,  it  gradually  acquires  firm- 
ness and  vigour  ;  and,  about  the  end  of  May,  when  the  gen- 
ial season  has  returned,  it  works  its  way  to  the  light  and 
warmth  of  the  summer's  atmosphere,  where,  after  living  for 
four  years  under  ground,  and  feeding  only  on  roots,  it  enters 
on  the  delights  of  its  nobler  existence,  buzzing  joyfully 
through  the  mild  air,  having  the  sweetest  vegetables  for  its 
banquet,  and  the  dew  of  evening  for  its  drink. 

Another  insect,  allied  to  the  beetle  kind,  is  still  more  re- 
markable in  its  instincts,  if  any  thing  in  this  world  of  won- 
ders can  be  said  to  have  the  pre-eminence, — I  allude  to  the 
nut-weavil  {CurcuHo  hucum).  Dr.  Good  has  chosen  this  little 
creature  as  an  illustration  of  the  absurdity  of  the  hypothesis, 
which  makes  instinct  to  depend  on  imitation,  education,  or 
reasoning  ;  and,  assuredly,  even  though  the  supposition  were 
not  contradicted  by  almost  every  habit  and  pursuit  of  the  in- 
ferior creation,  this  instance  might  of  itself  be  sufficient  to 
show  the  untenable  nature  of  the  theory.  The  nut-weavil, 
'  with  a  finished  knowledge  of  the  art,'  as  Dr.  Good  expresses 
it,  '  singles  out  a  nut  in  the  month  of  August,  while  its  shell 
is  yet  soft  and  penetrable  ;  and,  having  prepared  to  deposit 
her  eggs,  pierces  it  with  her  proboscis,  and  then,  turning 
round  accurately,  drops  an  Ggg  into  the  minute  perforation. 
Having  accomplished  this,  she  passes  on,  pierces  another 
nut,  drops  another  egg^  and  so  continues,  till  she  has  exhaust- 
ed her  whole  stock.     The  nut  continues  to  grow  ;  the  egg  is 


HYBERNATION  OF  THE  BEETLE.  208 

soon  hatched ;  the  young  maggot  finds  its  food  already  ripen- 
ed, and  in  waiting  for  it.  About  the  time  of  its  full  growth, 
it  falls  with  the  mature  nut  to  the  ground,  and  at  length, 
when  its  provision  here  is  exhausted,  creeps  out,  by  gnawing 
a  circular  hole  in  its  side.  It  then  burrows  under  the  surface 
of  the  ground,  where  it  continues  dormant  for  eight  months, 
at  the  termination  of  which  it  casts  its  skin,  becomes  a  chry- 
salis of  the  general  shape  and  appearance  of  the  beetle  kind  ; 
and  in  the  beginning  of  August  throws  off  the  chrysalid  in- 
vestment, creeps  to  the  surface  of  the  ground,  finds  itself  ac- 
commodated with  wings,  becomes  an  inhabitant  of  the  air, 
and  instantly  pursues  the  very  same  train  of  actions,  to  pro- 
vide for  a  new  progeny,  which  had  been  pursued  by  the  pa- 
rent insect  of  the  year  before.' 

One  more  example  which  I  shall  notice,  of  the  habits  of 
particular  species  of  the  remarkably  varied  class  of  beetles,  is 
of  a  very  different  kind  ;  and  my  object  in  adverting  to  it,  is 
to  show  another  principle,  by  which  the  sterility  of  winter  is 
rendered  innoxious  to  certain  animals.  We  have  seen  in- 
stances in  which,  among  vertebrated  as  well  as  invertebrated 
beings,  the  expedient  of  torpidity  is  resorted  to  by  the  Author 
of  Nature,  to  sustain  life,  and  perhaps  enjoyment  also,  during 
this  rigorous  season.  But,  in  the  example  I  am  going  to  pro- 
duce, there  appears  to  be  no  need  of  this  suspension  of  motion 
and  external  sensation,  as  the  little  creature  is  able  to  survive 
a  whole  winter,  and  even  much  longer,  without  any  food 
whatever,  except  what  is  derived  from  the  atmosphere  ;  and 
this,  indeed,  is  a  property  which  belongs  to  various  classes  of 
the  invertebrated  genus.  The  account  is  taken  from  the  com- 
munication of  a  writer  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions: — 
'On  the  removal  of  a  large  leaden  cistern,  I  observed  at  the 
bottom  of  it  black  beetles.  One  of  the  largest  I  threw  into  a 
cup  of  spirits, — it  being  the  way  of  killing  and  preparing  in- 
sects for  my  purpose.  In  a  few  minutes  it  appeared  to  be 
quite  dead.  I  then  shut  it  up  in  a  box,  about  an  inch  and  a 
half  in  diameter,  and,  throwing  it  into  a  drawer,  thought  no 
more  of  it  for  two  months  ;  when,  opening  the  box,  I  found  it 


204  HYBERNATION  OP  THE  BEETLE. 

alive  and  vigorous  though  it  had  no  food  all  the  time,  nor 
any  more  air  than  it  could  find  in  so  small  a  box,  whose 
cover  shut  very  close.  A  few  days  before,  a  friend  had  sent 
me  three  or  four  cockroaches.  These  I  had  put  under  a  large 
glass  ;  I  put  my  beetle  among  them,  and  fed  them  with  green 
ginger,  which  they  ate  greedily ;  but  he  would  never  taste 
it,  for  the  five  weeks  they  lived  there.  The  cockroaches 
would  avoid  the  beetle,  and  seemed  frightened  at  his  ap- 
proach ;  but  he  usually  stalked  along,  not  at  all  regarding 
whether  they  came  in  his  way  or  not.  During  two  years 
and  a  half  that  I  have  kept  him,  he  has  neither  ate  nor 
drank. 

'  How,  then,  has  he  been  kept  alive  ?  Is  it  by  the  air  ? 
There  are  particles  in  this,  which  supply  a  growth  to  some 
species  of  plants,  as  sempervivum,  orpine,  and  house-leek. 
May  not  the  same  or  like  particles  supply  nourishment  to 
some  species  of  animals  ?  In  the  amazing  plan  of  Nature, 
the  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  kingdoms,  are  not  separa- 
ted from  each  other  by  wide  distances ;  indeed,  their  boun- 
daries differ  from  each  other  by  such  minute  and  insensible 
degrees,  that  we  cannot  find  out  certainly  where  the  one  be- 
gins, or  the  other  ends.  As  the  air,  therefore,  nourishes  some 
plants,  so  it  may  nourish  some  animals ;  otherwise,  a  link 
would  seem  to  be  wanting  in  the  mighty  chain  of  beings.  It 
is  certain,  camelions  and  snakes  can  live  many  months  with- 
out any  visible  sustenance,  and  probably  not  merely  by  their 
slow  digestion,  but  rather  by  means  of  particles  contained  in 
the  air,  as  the  beetle  did  ;  yet,  doubtless,  in  its  natural  state,  it 
used  more  substantial  food.  So  the  plants  above  named  thrive 
best  with  a  little  earth,  although  they  flourish  a  long  time, 
and  send  forth  branches  and  flowers,  when  they  are  suspen- 
ded in  the  air.  Even  in  the  exhausted  receiver,  after  it  had 
been  there  half  an  hour,  it  seemed  perfectly  unconcerned, 
walking  about  as  briskly  as  ever;  but,  on  the  admission  of 
the  air,  it  seemed  to  be  in  a  surprise  for  a  minute.' 

It  is  impossible  not  to  view  with  wonder  and  admiration, 
the  various  ways  in  which  animal  life  is  sustained,  sometimes 


ANIMALCULES   IN   PASTE.  205 

even  under  circumstances  which,  arguing  from  ordinary  ana- 
logies, would  seem  to  insure  its  destruction.  I  have  already- 
alluded  to  the  power  possessed  by  some  insects'  eggs  to  resist 
extreme  cold  ;  and,  before  passing  to  the  hybernation  of  high- 
er species,  I  shall  conclude  this  paper  by  remarking,  that 
there  are  some  very  minute  kinds  of  animalcules,  the  germs 
of  which  seem  capable  of  resisting  the  extremes  both  of  heat 
and  cold.  If  the  paste  of  flour,  which  has  been  boiled  ever 
so  long  in  the  making,  be  allowed  to  become  sour,  and  then 
be  mixed  with  water,  the  mixture,  when  a  microscope  of  suf- 
ficient magnifying  power  is  applied  to  it,  will  appear  to  be 
composed  almost  entirely  of  little  eels,  very  handsomely  form- 
ed, and  moving  about  with  great  activity.  Allow  the  same 
mixture  of  paste  and  water  to  become  solid  by  drought  or  by 
freezing,  and  let  it  be  again  moistened  or  thawed,  and  it  will 
be  as  completely  peopled  as  ever  with  its  microscopic  inhab- 
itants. Now,  as  it  would  be  quite  unphilosophical  to  admit 
the  principle  of  equivocal  generation,  we  are  bound  to  con- 
clude, that  the  germs  of  these  living  creatures  were  lodged  in 
the  mixture  before  it  was  subjected  to  the  process  of  boiling, 
and  were  only  developed  by  the  subsequent  fermentation  ;  so 
that  it  would  appear,  in  this  case,  that  the  principle  of  life,  in 
whatever  form  it  may  exist,  is  indestructible  by  very  great 
alternations  of  heat  and  cold ;  and,  indeed,  we  are  not  war- 
ranted to  affix  boundaries  to  this  power,  or  to  conclude,  from 
the  experiments  which  have  yet  been  made,  that  any  length 
of  time,  however  extended,  or  any  degree  of  heat  or  cold, 
however  great,  would  be  sufficient  to  destroy  the  vitality  of 
these  germs. 

The  wonders,  indeed,  which  an  examination  of  the  incal- 
culably numerous  and  amazingly  diversified  classes  of  inver- 
tebrated  animals  discloses,  grow  upon  us  in  every  direction 
as  we  proceed ;  and  the  pious  exclamation  of  the  Psalmist 
recurs  to  us  perpetually, — '  O  Lord,  how  manifold  are  Thy 
works !     In  wisdom  hast  Thou  made  them  all.' 

VOL.  IV.  18 


206  GREATNESS    OF    GOD 

EIGHTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

GREATNESS  OF  GOD  EVEN  IN  THE  SMALLEST  THINGS. 

The  following  reflections  of  Mr.  Sturm,  the  well  known 
popular  German  writer,  are  so  appropriate,  as  a  sequel  to  our 
observations  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  week,  as  well  as 
to  the  previous  notices  respecting  the  wonders  of  the  micro- 
scope, that  I  think  it  would  not  be  easy  to  direct  mj'-  readers 
to  a  more  suitable  subject  of  consideration  on  this  sacred  day. 

He  who  delights  to  contemplate  the  works  of  God,  will 
not  only  discover  his  hand  in  those  immense  globes  which 
compose  the  system  of  the  universe,  but  also  in  the  little 
worlds  of  insects,  plants,  and  metals.  He  will  search  for,  and 
adore  the  wisdom  of  God,  as  well  in  the  spider's  web,  as  in 
the  power  of  gravitation,  which  attracts  the  earth  towards  the 
sun.  These  researches  are  at  present  the  easier,  as  micro- 
scopes have  discovered  to  us  new  scenes  and  new  worlds,  in 
which  we  behold,  in  miniature,  whatever  may  excite  our  ad- 
miration. They  who  have  not  the  opportunity  of  using  such 
instruments  will  read  at  least  with  pleasure,  the  following 
remarks  on  microscopic  objects. 

Let  us,  in  the  first  place,  observe  the  inanimate  world. 
Behold  those  mosses  and  little  plants  which  God  has  produ- 
ced in  such  abundance.  Of  what  extremely  small  particles 
and  tine  threads  are  these  plants  composed  !  What  a  variety 
in  their  forms  and  shapes!  Who  can  enumerate  all  their 
genera  and  all  their  species?  Think  on  the  innumerable 
multitude  of  small  particles  of  which  every  body  is  composed, 
and  which  may  be  detached  from  it !  If  a  hexagon,  of  an 
inch  square,  contain  a  hundred  millions  of  visible  parts,  who 
can  calculate  all  the  particles  which  compose  a  mountain  ?  If 
millions  of  globules  of  water  may  be  suspended  from  the 
point  of  a  needle,  how  many  must  there  be  in  a  spring,  in  a 
well,  in  a  river,  in  the  sea?  If,  from  a  lighted  candle,  there 
issue  in  a  second  more  particles  of  light  than  there  are  grains 


EVEN   IN    THE   SMALLEST   THINGS.  207 

of  sand  in  the  whole  earth,  how  many  igneous  particles  must 
there  issue  from  a  large  fire  in  an  hour  !*  If  one  grain  of 
sand  contain  more  than  a  thousand  millions  of  particles  of 
air,  how  many  must  there  be  in  the  human  body !  If  men 
can  divide  one  grain  of  copper  into  millions  of  parts,  without 
ariving  at  the  first  elements  of  matter— if  odoriferous  bodies 
can  exhale  a  sufficiency  of  odorous  particles,  so  as  to  be  per- 
ceived at  a  great  distance,  without  any  sensible  diminution  of 
weight,  it  would  require  an  eternity  for  the  human  mind  to 
calculate  the  number  of  particles  which  exist  in  those  bodies. 
If  we  pass  next  to  the  animal  kingdom,  the  scene  will  be 
incalculably  extended.  In  summer,  the  air  swarms  with  liv- 
ing creatures.  Each  drop  of  water  is  a  little  world  full  of 
inhabitants.  Every  leaf  is  a  colony  of  insects ;  and  every 
grain  of  sand  is  the  habitation  of  a  multitude  of  animated  be- 
ings. Every  species  of  plant,  seed,  and  flower,  nourishes 
millions  of  creatures.  Every  person  has  seen  those  innumer- 
able swarms  of  flies,  gnats,  and  other  insects,  which  gather 
together  in  a  small  space.  What  prodigious  hosts  must  there 
be  of  them,  that  live,  sport,  and  multiply  their  kind  over  the 
whole  earth,  and  in  the  immense  extent  of  the  atmosphere ! 
How  many  millions  of  still  smaller  insects  and  worms  are 
there  which  crawl  on  the  earth,  or  in  the  entrails  of  animals, 
the  number  of  which  are  only  known  to  God !  With  what 
splendour  does  the  power  of  God  manifest  itself  to  the  mind, 
when  we  reflect  on  the  multitude  of  parts  of  which  these 
creatures  are  composed,  of  whose  very  existence  most  men 
are  ignorant !  Were  we  not,  at  any  time,  able  to  prove  it  by 
experiment,  could  we  imagine  there  were  animals  a  million 
of  times  less  than  a  grain  of  sand,  with  organs  of  nutrition, 
motion,  &c.  There  are  shell-fish  so  small,  that,  even  view- 
ed through  a  microscope,  they  appear  scarcely  so  large  as  a 
grain  of  barley  ;  and  yet  they  are  real  animals,  with  durable 
dwelling-places,  the  foldings  and  recesses  of  which,  form  so 

*  This  remark  proceeds,  of  course,  on  the  old  theory  of  the  emanation 
of  light  and  heat.  But,  on  the  undulatory  theory,  the  wonder  is  not  les- 
sened.— H.  D. 


208  GREATNESS    OF    GOD 

many  different  apartments.  How  exceedingly  small  is  a 
mite ;  nevertheless,  this  almost  imperceptible  point,  seen 
through  a  microscope,  is  a  hairy  animal,  perfect  in  all  its 
members,  of  a  regular  figure,  full  of  life  and  sensibility,  and 
provided  with  every  necessary  organ.  Although  this  animal 
is  scarcely  visible  to  us,  yet  it  has  a  multitude  of  still  smaller 
parts  ;  and,  what  is  yet  more  admirable,  the  glasses  which 
show  us  so  many  faults  and  imperfections  in  the  most  finish- 
ed works  of  man,  can  observe  nothing  but  regularity  and  per- 
fection in  these  microscopic  objects!  How  inconceivably  thin 
and  tender  are  the  threads  of  a  spider  !  It  has  been  calcula- 
ted, that  it  would  take  36,000  of  them  to  make  the  thickness 
of  a  thread  of  common  sewing  silk.  Each  of  the  six  papilloe 
from  which  the  spider  draws  that  glutinous  liquor  of  which 
it  forms  its  web,  is  composed  of  a  thousand  insensible  pores, 
which  give  passage  to  so  many  threads  ;  so  that,  however 
fine  the  spider's  thread  may  appear,  it  is  composed  of  six  thou- 
sand smaller  ones ! 

You  are  struck  with  astonishment :  but,  suppose  we  had 
microscopes  which  could  magnify  some  thousands  of  times 
more  than  those  glasses  do,  through  which  a  mite  appears  no 
larger  than  a  grain  of  barley,  what  wonders  should  we  then 
see !  And,  even  then,  should  we  reach  the  limits  of  creation 
in  these  inconceivably  small  productions?  Certainly  not: 
and  it  would  be  presumption  and  extravagance  to  believe  it. 
Each  creature  has  a  kind  of  afiinity ;  and  the  more  we  con- 
template the  works  of  God,  the  more  the  wonders  of  his  pow- 
er shall  be  multiplied  in  our  sight. 

Our  imagination  is  confounded  in  the  two  extremes  of  na- 
ture, the  great  and  the  small ;  and  we  know  not  whether  we 
should  admire  the  Divine  power  more  in  those  enormous 
masses  which  roll  over  our  heads,  or  in  those  microscopic  ob- 
jects which  are  invisible  to  the  naked  eyes.  Should  not  the 
contemplation  of  the  works  of  God  be  our  most  pleasing  oc- 
cupation ?  The  trouble  of  study  would  be  amply  compensa- 
ted by  the  pure  and  innocent  pleasure  which  it  would  afford. 
It  would,  at  least,  awaken  in  us  an  ardent  desire  to  arrive  in 


EVEN    IN    THE    SMALLEST   THINGS.  209 

those  blessed  regions  where  we  should  require  neither  micro- 
Bcopes  nor  telescopes  to  enable  us  to  discover  the  wondrous 
works  of  God.  There  all  his  works  shall  be  so  unveiled  to 
our  eyes,  that  we  shall  be  able  to  distinguish  the  destination, 
structure,  and  relations 'of  each  object.  There,  immortal 
songs  of  praise  shall  resound  to  the  honour  of  the  Creator  of 
the  universe.  There,  all  distinction  of  great  and  small  shall 
be  entirely  done  away ;  for  every  thing  shall  appear  great  in 
our  sight,  and  fill  our  souls  with  admiration  and  joy! 


EIGHTH   WEEK— MONDAY. 

HYBERNATION. MIGRATION    OF    BIRDS. 

The  migration  of  birds,  before  winter  deprives  them  of 
their  natural  food,  or  diminishes  the  temperature  of  the  at- 
mosphere below  what  their  constitution  is  able  to  bear,  is  not 
only  one  of  the  familiar,  but  one  of  the  most  remarkable  ope- 
rations of  this  interesting  class  of  the  animal  creation.  No 
person  of  observation  can  reside  long  in  a  rural  district,  with- 
out being  struck  with  the  change  which  takes  place  in  its 
feathered  inhabitants  about  the  commencement  of  this  less 
genial  season.  While  hardier  races  of  birds,  unknown  to 
us  in  spring  and  summer,  begin  to  appear,  we  lose  sight  of 
many  of  those  tenants  of  our  hedges  and  grove,  which  cheer- 
ed us  with  their  music,  or  pleased  our  eye  by  the  variety  and 
brilliancy  of  their  plumage.  They  had  long  since  almost 
ceased  to  afford  us  agreeable  notice  of  their  presence,  by  the 
distinctive  variety  of  their  music  ;  but  we  had,  only  a  few 
days  or  weeks  before,  seen  them  flitting  gaily  across  our  path, 
or  perched  quietly  orpeeringly  on  some  neighbouring  bough  ; 
yet  now,  neither  to  the  eye  or  ear,  do  they  any  longer  give 
indications  of  their  existence.  What  has  become  of  these  in- 
teresting attendants  on  our  summer  walks  ?  The  solicitude 
to  which  reflections  on  their  fate,  during  the  vicissitudes  of 
18* 


210  HYBERNATION. 

our  rude  winter  climate,  give  rise,  is  beautifully  and  feeling- 
ly expressed  by  the  Scottish  poet : 

'  Ilk  happing  bird,  wee,  helpless  thing, 
Which,  in  the  merry  months  of  spring, 
Dehghted  me  to  hear  thee  sing, 

What  comes  o'  thee  7 
Where  wilt  thou  cow'r  thy  chittering  wing, 
And  close  thy  e'e  V 

Were  we,  indeed,  for  the  first  time,  and  without  the  correc- 
tion of  experience,  to  witness  the  arrival  of  winter,  when  the 
bountiful  hand  of  nature  seems  suddenly  to  be  withdrawn,  it 
would  appear  to  us  impossible  that  the  myriads,  not  only  of 
the  races  of  insects  we  have  been  considering,  but  of  quadru- 
peds, birds  and  reptiles,  which  swarm  on  the  surface  of  the 
earth  in  the  more  genial  months  of  summer  and  autumn, 
should  be  able,  during  the  privations  of  this  season,  to  pre- 
serve their  comforts,  or  even  their  very  existence.  There  is 
something  appalling  in  the  idea,  that  such  multitudes  of  crea- 
tures should  be  called  into  being,  only  to  fall  victims  to  an 
inevitable  and  cruel  fate  ;  and  it  would  seem  to  reflect  on  the 
wisdom  or  goodness  of  Providence,  were  such  anticipations 
to  be  realized.  But  it  is  not  so  ;  and  the  beneficent  contri- 
vances by  which  such  a  calamity  is  averted,  tend,  in  no 
slight  degree,  to  intimate  the  presence  and  operation  of  an 
intelligent  Creator. 

With  regard  to  those  animals  which  are  actually  exposed 
to  the  storms  of  winter,  let  it  be  observed,  that  this  season  of 
scarcity  and  privation  is  immediately  preceded  by  a  period  of 
peculiar  plenty,  when  the  edible  seeds  and  plants  are  in  great- 
est abundance  ;  and  that  these,  although  they  cease  to  vege- 
tate, do  not,  in  many  instances,  cease  to  exist  as  articles  of 
food.  The  seeds  and  debris  of  plants  lie  scattered  about  the 
ground  in  great  profusion  ;  and,  though  unnoticed  by  us,  are 
easily  discovered  by  the  microscopic  eye  of  many  of  the  in- 
ferior animals.  The  grass,  too,  which  forms  at  once  the  soft 
carpet  and  the  favourite  food  of  so  many  living  creatures,  al- 
though faded,  is  still  spread  over  our  hills  and  valleys,  and 


MIGRA-nON   OF   BIRDS.  211 

affords  to  the  larger  classes  of  graminivorous  animals,  a  more 
scanty  indeed,  but  yet  a  considerable  supply  of  succulent  food. 
The  roots  of  once  luxuriant  plants  and  flowers,  the  fruit  of 
the  bramble,  the  hawthorn,  and  the  eglantine,  the  acorn,  the 
beech-mast,  and  even  the  decaying  leaves  of  the  forest,  all 
contribute  their  varied  nourishment  to  different  tribes  of  ani- 
mated beings. 

But  to  this  subject  we  shall  afterwards  have  occasion  more 
particularly  to  advert ;  and,  with  reference  to  the  winged 
creation,  we  have  at  present  to  remark,  that  He  without 
whose  permission  '  not  even  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground,' 
and  who  '  feedeth  the  ravens  which  have  neither  storehouse 
nor  barn,'  deals  in  another  manner  with  those  tribes,  to  which 
subsistence  could  not  now  be  afforded  in  the  place  of  their 
summer  residence  ;  and,  by  means  of  a  secret  impulse  not 
less  wonderful  than  beneficent,  bears  them  beyond  the  reach 
of  coming  want,  and  the  chilling  breath  of  a  wintry  sky. 
The  Creator  is  fertile  in  resources ;  and  as  he  has  furnished 
this  class  of  his  living  creatures  with  wings  to  travel  through 
the  air,  where  there  are  neither  rivers  nor  seas  to  arrest  their 
progress,  and  where  they  can  readily  overtop  even  the  ob- 
truding mountains.  He  has  bestowed  on  them  that  mysteri- 
ous instinct  which  leads  them  to  migrate  to  southern  climes, 
where  the  food  on  which  they  subsist  is  still  abundant,  and 
the  arrival  of  winter  has  only  mitigated  the  intensity  of  the 
heat,  and  rendered  it  to  them  little  else  than  a  continuance  of 
the  blessings  of  summer. 

A  continental  writer  has  attempted  to  define  the  impulse 
which  induces  birds  to  migrate  ;  but  he  has  been  forced  to  do 
so,  after  minute  attention,  more  by  negatives  than  by  any 
positive  and  very  intelligible  assertion  of  a  principle.  '  It  is 
not  want  of  nourishment,'  says  M.  Brehm,  '  for  most  of  them 
commence  their  migration  while  there  is  still  abundance  in 
the  country  they  are  leaving.  Atmospherical  currents  are 
not  the  cause,  nor  do  the  changes  of  season  explain  it,  as  the 
greatest  number  set  off  while  the  weather  is  yet  fine ;  and 
others,  as  the  larks  and  starlings,  arrive  while  the  season  is 


212  HYBERNATION. 

bad.  Atmospherical  influences  can  only  hasten  the  migra- 
tion in  autumn,  but  must  rather  retard  or  derange  it  in  sprmg. 
It  is  the  presentiment  of  what  is  to  happen,  which  determines 
birds  to  begin  their  journey.  It  is  an  instinct  which  urges 
them,  and  which  initiates  them  into  the  meteoric  changes  that 
are  preparing.  They  have  a  particular  faculty  of  foreseeing 
the  rigours  of  the  coming  season  ;  an  exquisite  sensibility  to 
the  perception  o^  atmospherical  changes  which  are  not  yet 
arrived,  but  are  approaching.' 

The  same  intelligent  and  judicious  writer  states  some  facts 
relative  to  the  manner  of  these  migrations,  which  he  conceives 
to  be  established  ;  and,  as  they  are  curious  in  themselves,  and 
condensed  into  few  words,  we  shall  make  no  apology  for 
quoting  them.  '  Every  bird  has  its  native  country,  where  it 
freely  reproduces,  and  remains  part  of  the  year,  travelling  in 
the  remainder.  Most  birds  spend  half  the  year  at  their  home, 
and  pass  the  other  half  in  travelling.  Some,  particularly 
birds  of  prey,  travel  by  day,  but  by  far  the  greater  part  travel 
by  night ;  and  some  perform  their  migrations  indifferently, 
either  by  day  or  night.  They  seem  to  pass  the  whole  of 
their  migration  without  sleep ;  for  they  employ  the  day  in 
seeking  their  food,  stopping  in  the  places  where  they  are  most 
likely  to  find  it.  They  commonly  keep  very  high  in  the  air, 
and  always  at  nearly  the  same  distance  from  the  earth,  so 
that  they  rise  very  high  over  mountains,  and  fly  lower  along 
valleys.  They  require  a  wind  that  blows  against  them,  as  a 
contrary  wind  assists  in  raismg  them.'* 

In  some  subsequent  papers,  we  shall  follow  out  this  inter- 
esting subject,  by  entering  into  a  few  details  ;  but  we  cannot 
conclude  this  preliminary  sketch,  without  a  single  remark  re- 

*  Quoted  from  Library  of  Entertaining  Knowledge,  on  Faculties  of 
Birds,  p.  286.  There  appears  in  these  remarks  rather  too  much  disposi- 
tion to  generalize.  The  author  of  the  article  from  which  the  quotation  is 
extracted,  observes,  that  the  last  statement  must  be  subject  to  some  very- 
large  exceptions.  The  same  may  be  probably  said  of  some  of  the  rest; 
and  particularly  of  the  first  which  seems  to  aver  that  every  bird  travels 
through  part  of  the  year. 


MIGRATION    OF   BIRDS.  213 

specting  the    astonishing  faculty  on    which  the   migratory- 
habits  of  birds  are  founded. 

r 

It  would  be  vain  to  look  for  a  solution  of  the  phenomena 
of  migration  in  the  reasoning  powers  of  the  birds  themselves. 
They  have  obviously  neither  a  faculty  of  reflection,  nor  a 
geographical  nor  meteorological  knowledge,  which  could  en- 
able them  either  to  plan  or  to  execute  so  astonishing  an  en- 
terprise ;  and  we  are  compelled  to  rank  this  means  of  self- 
preservation  among  the  numerous  habits  and  practices  of  the 
lower  animals,  which  Brehm  calls  'a  presentiment,'  'an 
instinct,'  '  an  exquisite  sensibility,'  and  which  the  immortal 
Newton  justly  and  piously  ascribed  to  '  nothing  else  than  the 
wisdom  and  skill  of  a  powerful  and  ever-living  agent.' 


EIGHTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

HYBERNATION. MIGRATION    OF    BIRDS    CONTINUED. 

Curiosity  has  long  directed  its  inquiries  to  ascertain  the 
countries  to  which  our  various  birds  of  passage  migrate  du- 
ring the  winter  months ;  but  it  is  mortifying  to  think  how 
little  definite  information  has  been  obtained  on  so  interestino- 
a  question.  That  several  of  our  native  birds  are  capable  of 
taking  long  and  rapid  flights,  is  generally  known.  The 
swallow  and  the  hawk,  for  example,  can  continue  on  the 
wing,  without  rest,  for  many  hours,  and  are  believed  to  be 
capable  of  travelling  at  the  amazing  rate  of  150  miles  in  the 
hour.  Supposing,  however,  the  average  rate  of  the  flight  of 
birds  to  be  only  one-third  of  this  velocity,  it  is  obvious  that 
they  may,  without  difliculty,  perform  journeys  to  any  extent 
necessary  for  carrying  them  to  the  warmest  climates.  From 
the  British  shore  to  the  coast  of  France,  the  distance  is  com- 
paratively so  trifling,  that,  even  taking  the  broadest  part  of 
the  channel,  it  could,  at  the  moderate  average  we  have  men- 
tioned, be  performed  in  little  more  than  two  hours;  and 
thence  again,  stretching  through  the  intervening  countries  of 


214  HYBERNATION. 

France  and  Spain,  the  journey  to  Africa  might  be  accomplished 
in  the  short  period  of  two  or  three  days,  making  all  reasona- 
ble allowance  for  needful  rest.  Supposing  such  data  to  be 
correct,  this  would  obviously  be  no  formidable  labour  ;  and, 
that  we  have  not  overstated  the  powers  of  the  feathered  race, 
may  be  gathered  from  various  known  facts.  It  is  a  matter 
of  history,  that  a  falcon  belonging  to  Henry  IV.  of  France, 
havirvg  escaped  from  Fountainbleau,  was  found,  at  the  end 
of  twenty-four  hours,  at  Malta,  a  distance  of  about  1350  miles ! 
It  has  been  said,  that  birds  generally  begin  their  flight  with 
an  adverse  wind  ;  but,  granting  this  to  be  the  case,  which 
we  may  be  permitted  to  doubt,  the  intention  probably  is,  that 
they  may  thus  be  assisted  in  rising  into  a  higher  region  of 
the  atmosphere,  where  they  may  expect  to  meet  with  a 
counter  current ;  for  we  can  scarcely  suppose  that  they  pur- 
posely encounter  the  disadvantages  of  a  permanent  contrary 
breeze ;  and,  should  the  gale  be  favourable,  they  would, 
without  any  effort,  except  what  was  just  necessary  to  keep 
them  afloat,  be  borne  along,  with  the  moving  element,  at  the 
rate  of  thirty,  forty,  or  even  eighty  miles  an  hour.  As  to  the 
power  of  birds  to  keep  for  a  lengthened  period,  on  wing,  many 
remarkable  facts  have  been  mentioned.  That  of  the  blue 
bird  of  America  seems  to  be  beyond  dispute,  which,  though 
one  of  the  smaller  species,  passes  and  repasses  annually,  in 
great  quantities,  from  the  mainland  to  the  Bermudas,  a  dis- 
tance of  not  less  than  600  miles,  without  any  intervening  land. 
'  Nothing  is  more  common  in  Pennsylvania,'  says  Wilson, 
*  than  to  see  large  flocks  of  these  birds,  in  spring  and  fall, 
passing  at  considerable  heights  in  the  air,  from  the  south  in 
the  former,  and  from  the  north  in  the  latter  season.' 

The  distance  to  which  some  birds  migrate  from  their  na- 
tive place,  may  be  illustrated  by  the  following  anecdote,  if  it 
be  worthy  of  credit,  related  in  the  article  already  alluded  to, 
on  the  '  Faculties  of  Birds,'  as  found  in  several  public 
journals.  'Last  year  (1833),  a  Polish  gentleman  having 
caught  a  stork  upon  his  estate,  near  Lemburg,  put  round  its 
neck  an  iron  collar,  with  this  inscription.     "  Hcrc  dconia  ex 


MIGRATION    OF    BIRDS.  215 

Polonia"  (This  stork  comes  from  Poland), — and  set  it  at  lib- 
erty. This  year  (1834),  the  bird  returned  to  the  same  spot, 
and  was  again  caught  by  the  same  person.  It  had  acquired 
a  new  collar  of  gold,  with  the  inscription,  "  Lidia  cum  donis 
remittit  ciconiam  Polonis  "  (India  sends  back  the  stork  to  the 
Poles  with  gifts).  The  gentleman  having  shown  the  inscrip- 
tion to  his  neighbors,  again  set  the  bird  at  liberty.' 

We  shall  not  now  be  surprised  to  hear  that  the  swallow, 
as  well  as  several  other  British  birds,  such  as  the  nightingale 
and  the  quail,  should  find  its  way  to  the  shores  of  Africa, 
Indeed,  if  it  possesses  the  strength  and  swiftness  of  the  Ame- 
rican blue  bird,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  it 
exceeds  this  point  rather  than  fails  short,  it  would  require  but 
a  single  resting-place  in  its  passage,  and  arrive  with  ease  on 
the  second  day. 

As  to  the  mode  of  migration,  this  differs  in  different  species, 
some  assembling  in  vast  flocks,  and  taking  their  flight  to- 
gether, such  as  swallows,  geese,  &c.  while  others  seem  to 
prefer  plying  their  solitary  way.  Of  this  latter  kind  is  the 
cuckoo,  which  indeed  is  seldom  at  any  time  observed  in  com- 
pany even  with  its  mate.  But  what  would  scarcely  be  ex- 
pected, and  cannot  easily  be  accounted  for  on  the  analogy  of 
the  other  habits  of  the  feathered  family,  there  seem  to  be  some 
kinds  of  birds,  the  males  of  which  take  their  migratory  flight 
unaccompanied  by  the  females,  who  follow  them  at  the  in- 
terval of  some  days ;  and  others,  the  females  of  which  lead 
the  way,  and  leave  their  mates  behind.  The  nightingale 
and  the  wheat-ear  are  said  to  be  of  the  ungallant  habits  of 
the  first  mentioned  species. 

While  those  birds,  whose  food  fails,  or  becomes  scanty  in 
winter,  take  their  flight,  as  we  have  seen,  to  more  southern 
climates,  their  place  is  partly  supplied  by  the  immigration  of 
winged  strangers  from  the  shores  of  the  north,  actuated  obvi- 
ously by  a  similar  impulse,  namely,  that  of  escaping  from  a 
more  rigorous  region,  and  finding  a  supply  of  congenial  food 
when  that  of  their  summer  haunts  is  about  to  be  exhausted. 
These  are  chiefly  sea-fowl,  or  the  frequenters  of  lakes,  or  the 


216  HYBERNATION. 

inhabitants  of  fens  and  marshes ;  and  it  is  doubtless,  the  ap- 
proach, though  not  perhaps  the  actual  arrival,  of  frost,  about 
to  bind  their  more  northerly  places  of  resort  in  icy  fetters,  and 
thus  to  render  them  unfit  for  their  subsistence  ;  which  has 
made  the  instinct  necessary  that  drives  them  southward. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  and  what  might  confidently  be  ex- 
pected from  the  nature  of  the  case,  that  although  our  summer 
visitants  are  not  confined  to  any  particular  order  or  tribe,  in- 
cluding, not  only  both  land  and  water  fowl,  but  devourers  of 
all  different  kinds  of  food,  yet  of  those  which  reside  among 
us,  in  winter,  there  are  none  insectivorous,  and  very  few 
granivorous.  It  is  also  remarkable,  that,  while  all  our  sum- 
mer birds  of  passage  hatch  their  young  in  this  country,  few, 
if  any,  of  the  winter  kinds  remain  to  execute  this  necessary 
duty.  They  leave  our  shores  before  the  breeding-season 
commences,  to  give  a  birth-place  to  their  progeny,  in  their 
own  native  regions  of  Sweden,  Norway,  or  Iceland,  some  of 
them,  such  as  the  snow-bunting,  even  approaching  the  Arctic 
Circle,  and  performing  the  office  of  incubation  on  the  ice- 
bound coast  of  Greenland,  or  amidst  the  icebergs  of  Spitz- 
bergen. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  admire  the  care  which  Providence 
has  thus  manifested,  at  once  to  preserve  the  winged  tribes 
from  the  fatal  effects  of  a  change  of  climate,  too  severe  for 
their  nature,  and  to  cheer  the  short  summer  of  the  northern 
regions  with  the  presence  of  inhabitants,  which  only  a  few 
days  of  a  stern  polar  winter  would  destroy.  The  spring, 
summer,  and  autumn  of  Spitzbergen,  for  example,  are  all 
comprised  in  the  space  of  a  few  weeks.  Even  so  late  as  the 
end  of  April,  the  whole  island  is  a  wild  and  dreary  waste  of 
ice  and  snow  ;  not  a  sound  of  animated  beings  is  to  be  heard  ; 
though  the  sun  after  an  absence  of  four  dismal  months,  has 
appeared  for  some  time,  skirting,  with  his  cold  and  languid 
lamp,  the  edge  of  the  bleak  horizon.  Gradually,  however, 
he  rises  higher  in  the  southern  heavens  ;  and  in  May  or  June, 
his  never-setting  orb  sheds  a  genial  warmth  through  the  pla- 
cid air,  and  on  the  smiling  earth.     The  change  is  like  that  of 


MIGARTION    OF    BIRDS.  217 

magic.  The  snows  dissolve,  and  rash  in  torrents  to  the  sea. 
The  ground  appears,  first  in  spots,  and  then  in  one  vast  un- 
broken extent,  along  the  valleys,  and  even  on  the  less  eleva- 
ted hills.  Instantly  the  powers  of  vegetation  burst  forth  with 
an  energy  of  which  we  can  scarcely  form  a  conception.  In  a 
few  days,  a  land,  which  seemed  the  region  of  perpetual  snow, 
is  clothed  with  the  loveliest  verdure,  and  becomes  instinct 
with  life.  The  gaunt  bear  leaves  his  cave,  where  he  had 
spent  the  winter  in  a  happy  torpidity,  while  numerous  insects 
start  from  their  winter  tombs,  and  flutter  gladly  in  the  balmy 
atmosphere.  It  is  at  this  auspicious  period,  that  the  snow- 
buntings,  and  perhaps  some  other  winter  birds,  having  lin- 
gered probably  for  a  time  in  the  intervening  islands  of  Shet- 
land, Faroe,  and  Iceland,  arrive  on  this  awakened  coast,  which 
they  render  vocal  with  their  song  ;  and,  while  they  find  a 
congenial  climatef  and  food  adapted  to  their  nature,  immedi- 
ately begin  the  important  offices  required  for  the  propagation 
of  the  species  ;  obtaining,  in  this  remote  island,  a  retreat  com- 
paratively free  from  the  molestation  of  the  enemies  of  their 
species.  In  a  few  weeks,  the  sun  begins  again  to  lose  its 
genial  warmth,  and  symptoms  of  approaching  winter  warn 
these  annual  visitants  to  return  to  a  more  temperate  climate  ; 
but  this  interval  has  sufficed,  not  only  for  the  hatching  of  the 
brood,  but  for  their  being  reared  and  cherished  tiL  they  have 
acquired  a  strength  of  wing  which  enables  them  to  accompa- 
ny their  adventurous  parents,  in  shaping  their  pathless  way 
for  hundreds  of  miles  across  a  stormy  and  apparently  shoreless 
ocean,  without  a  single  land-mark  in  the  distant  horizon  to 
direct  their  course. 

The  case  of  the  little  snow-bunting  is  only  a  particular  in- 
stance, though  a  striking  one,  of  that  w^onderful  instinct 
which  belongs  to  so  many  of  the  feathered  family.  It  marks, 
in  a  very  lively  manner,  the  peculiar  features,  the  extent,  and 
the  beneficent  intentions  of  this  impulse  of  a  wonder-work- 
ing power ;  and,  while  it  fills  the  pious  mind  with  an  unde- 
finable  feeling  of  awe,  under  the  sense  of  a  present  Deity,  di- 
rects it  to  the  cheering  doctrines,  and  blessed  promises,  of 

VOL.  rv.  19 


2 1 8  HYBERNATION. 

Revealed  Truth,  and  may  well  serve  to  increase  its  confi. 
dence  in  the  never-failing  protection  of  a  reconciled  Father, 
who  bestows  those  secret  and  mysterious  influences  of  Di- 
vine grace,  through  which  the  Christian  is  led  '  by  a  way 
which  he  knows  not,'  from  the  wintry  scenes  of  earth,  to  the 
glories  of  an  eternal  summer. 

The  snow-bird  of  America  is  another  of  the  feathered 
tribe,  which  the  hand  of  a  beneficent  Providence  drives  north- 
ward to  fulfil  some  important  end.  When  the  weather  be- 
gins to  be  warm,  the  snow-bird  moves  towards  the  colder  re- 
gions, and  arrives  about  the  Hudson's  Bay  Factory,  in  June, 
whence  it  continues  its  course  still  farther  north,  where  it 
breeds.  This  kind  is  so  numerous  as  to  be  found  scattered 
over  the  greater  part,  probably  the  whole,  of  the  northern  re- 
gions of  North  America,  in  great  profusion.  Speaking  of 
this  remarkable  species,  Mr.  Wilson  says, '  In  the  circuitous 
route  I  travelled,  of  more  than  1800  miles,  I  never  passed  a 
day,  and  scarcely  a  mile,  without  seeing  numbers  of  these 
birds,  and  frequently  large  flocks  of  several  thousands.' 

The  impulse  which  urges  these  tenants  of  the  air  to  seek 
the  wilds  of  the  north,  is  evidently  connected  with  the  in- 
stinct which  leads  them  to  propagate  the  species ;  and  in- 
deed some  naturalists  are  of  opinion,  that,  in  all  instances  of 
migration,  the  same  instinct  operates.  However  this  may 
be,  it  is  certain  that  these  little  creatures  find  a  more  secure 
retreat  in  the  countries  near  the  Arctic  Circle,  for  the  impor- 
tant purpose  of  incubation,  than  could  readily  be  chosen  in 
the  circle  of  their  summer  haunts.  J3ut,  while  they  thus 
escape  many  formidable  enemies,  they  are  probably  not  alto- 
gether free  from  danger  ;  for  their  appearance  will  be  hailed 
as  a  seasonable  boon  of  Providence,  by  the  scattered  inhabi- 
tants of  these  inhospitable  regions,  who  must  find,  in  this  an- 
nual supply  of  dainty  food,  thus  mysteriously  sent  them  by 
an  Unseen  Hand,  an  agreeable  and  wholesome  variety,  after 
being  confined  during  the  dismal  winter  months,  to  the  un- 
varying sameness  of  that  coarse,  unsavoury,  and  oily  nourish- 
ment, which  their  rude  skill  extracts  from  the  surrounding  sea.^. 


BIRDS    WHICH    PARTIALLY    MIGRATE.  219 

EIGHTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

HYBERNATION. BIRDS    WHICH    PARTIALLY    MIGRATE. 

There  are  some  of  the  British  feathered  tribes,  which  al- 
though they  do  not  pass  beyond  the  sea,  are  yet,  to  a  certain 
extent,  migratory  within  the  bounds  of  the  island.  These  are 
chiefly  influenced  in  their  change  of  residence,  by  the  desire 
of  finding  a  more  remote  retreat,  for  the  purpose  of  incubation, 
or  of  acquiring  a  more  plentiful  supply  of  food,  or,  perhaps, 
in  some  instances,  a  more  sheltered  place  of  residence  during 
the  stormy  months.  '  Of  these,'  says  Mr.  Rennie,  '  may  be 
mentioned  in  our  country,  the  curlew  and  golden  plover, 
which  in  winter  reside  chiefly  along  the  shores,  while  in 
summer  they  betake  themselves  to  the  inland  lakes  and 
moors ;  the  lapwing,  which  seems  to  move  northwards  in 
winter  ;  the  linnet,  which  in  that  season  deserts  the  hilly 
regions,  and  approaches  the  habitations  of  man  ;  and  the 
dipper,  which  in  summer  ascends  the  streams,  towards  their 
sources.' 

But  it  is  in  continental  countries,  and  especially  in  Ame- 
rica, where  interminable  forests  are  mingled  with  districts, 
and  bounded  by  regions  cultivated  by  the  labour  of  man,  and 
teeming  with  crops  of  grain,  that  the  most  remarkable  in- 
stances of  this  kind  of  partial  migration  take  place.  The 
countless  multitudes  of  pigeons  in  that  country,  which,  at 
particular  seasons,  shift  their  residence  in  continuous  and  al- 
most endless  flocks,  have  long  been  the  admiration  of  travel- 
lers. Audubon  in  his  usual  graphic  manner,  describes  a 
flight  of  this  tribe,  of  which  he  was  an  eye  witness.  '  In 
the  autumn  of  1813,' says  he, '  I  left  my  house  at  Hender- 
son, on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  on  my  way  to  Louisville.  In 
passing  over  the  Barrens,  a  few  miles  below  Hardensburgh, 
I  observed  the  pigeons  flying  from  north-east  to  south-west 
in  greater  numbers  than  I  thought  I  had  ever  seen  them  be- 
fore ;   and  feeling  an  inclination  to  count  the   flocks  that 


HYBERNATION. 


might  pass  within  the  reach  of  my  eye  in  one  hour,  I  dis- 
mounted, seated  myself  on  an  eminence,  and  began  to  mark 
with  my  pencil,  making  a  dot  for  every  flock  that  passed. 
In  a  short  time,  finding  the  task  that  I  had  undertaken  im- 
practicable, as  the  birds  poured  on  in  countless  multitudes,  I 
rose,  and  counting  the  dots  then  put  down,  found  163  had 
been  made  in  twenty-one  minutes.  I  travelled  on,  and  still 
met  more,  the  farther  they  proceeded.  The  air  was  literally 
filled  with  pigeons ;  the  light  of  noon-day  was  obscured  as  by 
an  eclipse  ,'  the  dung  fell  in  spots,  not  unlike  mehed  flakes 
of  snow  ;  and  the  continued  buzz  of  wings  had  a  tendency 
to  lull  my  senses  to  repose.'  '  Before  sunset,'  he  adds  after- 
wards, '  I  reached  Louisville,  distant  from  Hardensburgh  fif- 
ty-five miles.  The  pigeons  were  still  passing  in  undimin- 
ished numbers,  and  continued  to  do  so  for  three  days  in  suc- 
cession.' *  *  *  '  The  atmosphere,  during  this  time,  was 
strongly  impregnated  with  the  peculiar  odour  which  ema- 
nates from  the  species.' 

Though  not  entirely  to  the  point  we  are  considering,  we 
willingly  yield  to  the  temptation  of  inserting  a  striking  pas- 
sage which  occurs  in  this  account : — '  I  cannot  describe  to 
you  the  e.xtreme  beauty  of  their  aerial  evolutions,  when  a 
hawk  chanced  to  press  upon  the  rear  of  a  flock.  At  once, 
like  a  torrent,  and  with  a  noise  like  thunder,  they  rushed  into 
a  compact  mass,  pressing  upon  each  other  towards  the  centre. 
In  these  almost  solid  masses,  they  darted  forward  in  undu- 
lating and  angular  Imes,  descended,  and  swept  close  over  the 
earth,  Avith  inconceivable  velocity,  mounted  perpendicularly, 
so  as  to  resemble  a  vast  column,  and,  when  high,  were  seen 
wheeling  and  twisting  within  their  continued  lines,  which 
then  resembled  the  coils  of  a  gigantic  serpent.' 

These  flights  are,  doubtless,  in  search  of  food,  and  may 
throw  some  light  on  the  nature  of  the  principle  by  which  mi- 
grations are  influenced,  as  they  are  obviously  regulated  by 
an  impulse,  if  not  observing  and  intelligent,  at  least  capable 
of  being  adapted  to  new  circumstances,  and  of  taking  advan- 
tage of  new  discoveries.     Catesby  mentions,  that  since  the 


MIGRATION    OF   iJIRDS.  221 

discovery  of  America  has  introduced  crops  of  foreign  grain 
into  that  once  savage  and  uncuhivated  country,  not  only 
have  these  novel  articles  of  food  become  the  familiar  re- 
source of  native  birds  from  distant  regions,  but  various  species 
of  the  winged  tribes,  naturally  strangers  to  that  continent, 
have,  by  some  means,  become  aware  of  the  existence  of  such 
exotic  stores,  and  arrive  annually  in  numerous  flocks,  at  the 
proper  season,  to  avail  themselves  of  this  new  provision  for 
their  wants.  The  rice-bird  and  the  wheat-bird  are  of  this 
description.  The  latter,  if  Catesby's  observations  be  correct, 
has  taken  this  new  course  of  migration  across  the  sea  from 
the  island  of  Cuba,  between  one  and  two  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  nearest  point  of  the  mainland,  leaving  that  region 
immediately  after  the  rice  harvest,  and  alighting  in  Carolina 
in  time  to  partake  of  the  rice  crop  in  that  latter  climate,  and 
afterwards  of  the  ripening  wheat  in  the  more  northerly  plains 
of  Virginia.  It  is,  indeed,  but  a  few  years  since  the  wheat- 
birds  first  found  their  way  to  this  latter  State,  where  they 
now  regularly  flock  at  the  proper  season,  in  such  numbers, 
as  materially  to  interfere  with  the  gains  of  the  farmer. 

This  is  a  very  interesting  view  of  the  nature  of  the  winged 
family,  and  gives  rise  to  some  curious  and  difficult  questions. 
By  what  means  do  birds  ascertain  the  introduction  of  their 
proper  food  into  these  new  and  distant  regions  ?  How  do 
they  Communicate  the  information  to  their  fellows,  after  they 
have  obtained  it  ?  And  when  once  known,  by  what  faculty 
is  it  perpetuated  in  the  individuals,  and  transmitted  to  their 
posterity  ?  Are  we  to  believe  that,  like  man,  they  make  dis- 
tant voyages  of  discovery  in  search  of  new  stores  ;  that  they 
possess  a  faculty  resembling  that  of  speech,  by  which  they 
convey  a  knowledge  of  the  discoveries  they  have  made ;  and 
that  they  are  furnished  with  memories  sufficiently  retentive, 
and  reasoning  powers  sufficiently  strong,  to  enable  them, 
from  year  to  year,  as  the  season  returns,  to  profit  by  the  new 
knowledge  they  have  acquired?  This  seems  to  be  Cates- 
by's opinion  ;  and  it  would,  doubtless,  readily  account  for 
these  and  various  other  phenomena  of  a  similar  nature,  which 

19* 


222  HYEERNATION. 

may  occur  to  the  inquiring  mind  ;  but  it  seems  to  be  so  in- 
consistent with  what  is  knoAvn  of  the  limited  mental  powers 
of  birds,  that  it  will  not  readily  be  assented  to,  and  we  must, 
probably,  look  for  the  true  solution  in  some  qualities  bearing 
more  resemblance  to  the  admitted  faculties  of  the  race.  If, 
however,  we  attempt  to  pursue  the  inquiry  farther,  we  shall, 
perhaps,  here,  as  in  a  thousand  other  instances,  land  ourselves 
in  perplexity  and  darkness,  and  be  forced  to  rest  in  the  hum- 
bling conviction,  that  such  knowledge  is  too  high  for  us. 
When  we  become  aw^are  that  the  migratory  impulse  varies 
according  to  circumstances,  and  is  modified  by  changes  in 
climate  or  in  food,  whether  dependent  on  natural  causes  or 
on  the  labours  of  civilized  man,  we  seem  to  have  acquired  a 
glimmering  of  something  like  a  principle  of  reason  as  appli- 
cable to  that  impulse.  But  v/hen,  on  the  other  hand,  we  con- 
sider the  extent  to  which  that  reasoning  principle  must  ne- 
cessarily be  carried,  before  it  can  account  for  the  phenomena, 
— -when  we  recollect,  that  it  must  include  some  high  powers 
of  memory,  reflection,  and  judgment,  as  well  as  considerable 
geographical  knowledge,  and  an  accurate  acquaintance  with 
the  progress  of  time,  as  connected  with  the  changes  of  the 
seasons  and  the  ripening  of  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  it  seems 
altogether  impossible  to  maintain  this  ground  ;  and  we  feel 
compelled  to  fall  back  on  our  first  conclusions,  and  to  resolve 
the  whole,  or  at  least  by  far  the  greater  part,  into  a  power, 
the  nature  of  which  has  hitherto  eluded  all  attempts  to  ana- 
lyze it,  and  our  ignorance  of  which  we  endeavour  to  conceal 
under  the  name  of  instinct. 

Here,  then,  we  find  new  cause  to  look  up  with  awe  and 
adoration  to  the  mysterious  but  beneficent  operations  of  that 
unseen,  omnipresent  Intelligence,  who  causes,  -'the  stork 
in  the  heaven  to  know  her  appointed  times,  and  the  turtle, 
and  the  crane,  and  the  swallow,  to  observe  the  time  of  their 
coming. 


MIGRATION    OF    QUADRUPEDS.  223 

EIGHTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

HYBERNATION. MIGRATION    OF    QUADRUPEDS. 

The  care  of  Providence  in  securing  tlie  subsistence  and 
comfort  of  quadrupeds  in  the  winter  months,  is  not  less  re- 
markable than  that  which  is  displayed  towards  the  feathered 
creation  ;  and  the  modiiications  of  their  hybernating  instincts, 
and  of  other  arrangements,  exhibit  equal  indications  of  wise 
and  beneficent  design.  A  striking  example  of  that  adapta- 
tion of  propensities  to  external  circumstances,  which  is  to  be 
found  characterising  the  instincts  of  all  the  orders  of  orga- 
nized beings,  occurs  among  the  brute  tribes,  in  the  limited 
extent  of  their  migratory  habits.  Being  destitute  of  wings, 
which  transport  the  various  species  of  birds  so  expeditiously 
and  safely  through  the  air,  they  cannot  leave  their  native 
haunts  without  difficulty  and  danger,  arising  from  the  rug- 
ged and  intersected  nature  of  the  earth  to  which  they  are  con- 
fined, and  the  fury  of  the  enemies  they  would  meet  with  in 
a  journey  necessarily  tedious,  and  often  unsheltered.  Some 
quadrupeds,  however,  do  possess  this  instinct  in  situations  fa- 
vourable for  its  exercise.  In  our  own  island,  for  example,  the 
stag  and  the  roebuck  leave  the  higher  regions  on  the  ap- 
proach of  winter,  and  seek  protection  in  the  more  sheltered 
plains.  But  it  is  in  continental  countries,  where  larger 
space  is  afTorded,  and  where  the  variety  of  climate  gives  freer 
scope  for  the  development  of  the  principle,  that  migratoiy 
habits  are  to  be  chiefly  expected,  and  it  is  there  that  they  ac- 
tually exist  to  the  greatest  extent.  On  this  subject  I  shall 
take  leave  to  quote  an  interesting  passage  in  Mr.  Kirby's 
Bridgewater  Treatise,  which  occurs  under  the  head  of  Geo- 
graphical Distribution  of  Animals  : — 

'  We  are  next  to  consider  those  migrations  that  take  place 
periodically,  and  usually  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year  ;  the 
general  intention  of  which  appears  to  be  a  supply  of  food, 
and  often  a  temperature  best  suited  to  reproduction  ;  Provi- 


224  HYBERNATION. 

dence,  in  this,  taking  care  that  their  instincts  shall  stimulate 
them  to  change  their  quarters,  when  these  two  objects  can  be 
answered  at  the  same  time,  and  by  a  single  removal. 

'  In  North  America,  that  ferocious  and  lion-like  animal, 
the  bison,  called  there  the  buffalo,  forms  regular  migrations, 
in  immense  herds,  from  north  to  south,  and  from  the  moun- 
tains to  the  plains  ;  and,  after  a  certain  period,  returns  back 
again.  Salt  springs,  usually  called  salt-licks  or  salines,  found 
in  a  clay  compact  enough  for  potter's  clay,  are  much  fre- 
quented by  these  animals ;  whence  they  are  called  buffalo 
salt-licks.  Dr.  Richardson  informs  me,  that  the  periodical 
movements  of  these  animals  are  regulated  almost  solely  by 
the  pastures ;  when  a  fire  has  spread  over  the  prairies,  it  is 
succeeded  by  a  fine  growth  of  tender  grass,  which  they  are 
sure  to  visit.  How  the  bison  discovers  that  this  has  taken 
place,  seems  not  easily  accounted  for ;  perhaps  stragglers 
from  the  great  herds,  when  food  grows  scarce,  may  be  instru- 
mental to  this. 

'  The  musk-ox,  a  ruminating  animal,  between  the  ox  and 
sheep,  has  the  same  habit,  extending  its  migratory  move- 
ments as  far  as  Melville,  and  other  islands  of  the  Polar  Sea, 
where  it  arrives  about  the  middle  of  May  ;  and  going  south- 
ward towards  the  end  of  September,  where  it  has  been  seen 
as  low  as  latitude  67°  N.,  which,  as  Dr.  Richardson  observes, 
approaches  the  northern  limit  of  the  bison.  Its  food,  like 
that  of  the  rein-deer,  or  caribou^  is  grass  in  the  summer,  and 
lichens  in  the  winter.  Its  hair  is  very  long ;  and — as  well 
as  that  of  the  bison,  which  has  been  manufactured,  both  in 
England  and  America,  into  cloth — might  be  woven  into  use- 
ful articles.  This  animal  inhabits,  strictly,  the  country  of 
the  Esquimaux,  and  may  be  regarded  as  the  gift  of  a  kind 
Providence  to  that  people,  who  call  it  ooming?nak,  and  not 
only  eat  its  flesh,  but  also  the  contents  of  its  stomach,  as  well 
as  those  of  the  rein-deer,  which  they  call  7iorrooks,  which, 
consisting  of  lichens  and  other  vegetable  substances,  as  Dr. 
Richardson  remarks,  are  more  easily  digested  by  the  human 


MIGRATION    OF   QUADRUPEDS.  225 

stomach  when  they  are  mixed  with  the  salivary  and  gastric 
juices  of  a  ruminating  animal 

'  The  wild  rein-deer,  in  North  America,  in  the  summer,' 
as  the  excellent  man  and  author  lately  mentioned,  states, 
'  seek  the  coast  of  the  Arctic  Seas.  It  is  singular,  that  the  fe- 
males, driven  from  the  woods  by  the  musquitoes,  migrate 
thither  before  the  males,  generally  in  the  month  of  May 
(some  say  in  April  and  March) ;  while  the  latter  do  not  begin 
their  march  till  towards  the  end  of  June.  At  this  time  the 
sun  has  dried  up  the  lichens  on  the  barren  grounds ;  and  the 
moist  pastures  in  the  valleys  of  the  coasts  and  islands*  of  the 
above  seas,  afford  them  sufficient  food.  Soon  after  their  ar- 
rival, the  females  drop  their  young.  They  commence  their 
return  to  the  south  in  September,  and  reach  the  vicinity  of 
the  woods  towards  the  end  of  October.  After  the  rutting 
season,  which  takes  place  in  September,'  the  males  and  fe- 
males live  separately ;  the  former  retire  deeper  into  the 
woods,  while  the  pregnant  herds  of  the  latter  remain  in  the 
skirts  of  the  barren  grounds,  which  abound  in  the  rein-deerf 
and  other  lichens.  In  the  woods,  they  feed  on  lichens  which 
hang  from  the  trees,  and  on  the  long  grass  of  the  swamps. 
The  males  do  not  usually  go  so  far  north  as  the  females. 
Columns,  consisting  of  eight  or  ten  thousand  of  these  caribous^ 
so  numerous  are  they  in  North  America,  may  be  seen  an- 
nually passing  from  north  to  south  in  the  spring,  infested  and 
attacked  in  their  progress  by  numbers  of  wolves,  foxes,  and 
other  predaceous  quadrupeds,  which  attack  and  devour  the 
stragglers. 

'  The  prong-horned  antelope,:}:  as  well  as  the  rein-deer,  ap- 
pears to  go  northward  in  the  summer,  an(^  return  to  the  south 
in  winter, 

'  Dr.  Richardson  remarks  to  me  in  a  letter — "  The  musk- 

*  There  seems  to  be  a  trifling  inaccuracy  here.  In  the  month  of  June, 
the  ice  has  ceased  to  bridge  the  northern  seas ;  and  the  males  cannot 
reach  the  islands  if  they  do  not  arrive  sooner  than  this  period. — H.  D. 

f  Cenomyce  rangifernia. — Achar. 

t  Antelope  furcata. 


226  HYBERNATION'. 

OX  and  rein-deer  feed  chiefly  on  lichens,  and  therefore  fre- 
quent the  barren  lands  and  primitive  rocks,  which  are  clothed 
with  these  plants.  They  resort,  in  winter,  when  the  snow  is 
deep,  to  the  skirts  of  the  woods,  and  feed  on  the  lichens 
which  hang  fron\the  trees ;  but,  on  every  favourable  change 
of  weather,  they  return  to  the  barren  grounds.  In  summer, 
they  migrate  to  the  moist  pastures  on  the  sea-coast,  and  eat 
grass;  because  the  lichens  on  the  barren  lands  are  then 
parched  by  the  drought,  and  too  hard  to  be  eaten.  The 
young  grass  is,  I  suppose,  better  fitted  for  the  fawns,  which 
are  dropt  about  the  time  the  deer  reach  the  coast."  In  all 
this,  we  see  the  hand  of  Providence,  directing  them  to  those 
places  where  the  necessary  sustenance  may  be  had.'* 

Mr.  Kirby  might  have  added  to  this  latter  observation, 
another,  which  seems  to  be  not  less  striking,  and  which  we 
have  already  noticed,  in  reference  to  some  of  the  winged 
tribes ; — that  the  chief  reason  why  the  rein-deer  is  taught  to. 
seek  the  north  for  the  birth-place  of  its  young,  is,  that  there 
the  latter  are  comparatively  unmolested  by  those  ferocious 
beasts  of  prey,  v/hich  inhabit  the  more  southerly  regions, 
and  which  would  assuredly  greatly  diminish  their  numbers, 
if  they  did  not  entirely  exterminate  the  race,  were  the  fawns 
to  reside  in  the  neighbourhood  of  these  hordes  of  enemies,  be- 
fore they  had  acquired  sufficient  swiftness  and  strength  to 
elude  pursuit.  This  provision  of  Providence  is  truly  won- 
derful. At  the  time  appointed  for  the  dropping  of  their 
young,  the  food  of  the  rein-deer,  as  well  as  of  the  musk-ox, 
is  to  be  found  in  abundance,  at  a  distance  from  the  chief 
haunts  of  their  natural  enemies ;  and  thus  these  peaceful 
tribes  are  led,  by  a  kind  of  double  instinct,  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  their  species,  both  as  regards  its  maintenance  and  re- 
production. 

In  speaking  of  the  migrations  of  the  rein-deer,  I  must  not 
omit  to  mention  a  striking  peculiarity,  which  belongs  to  this 
as  well  as  some  other  of  the  more  intelligent  species  of  ani- 

*  Kirby's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  vol.  i.  p.  94. 


MIGRATION   OF    QUADRUPEDS.  227 

msi.s  ;  their  motions  appear  to  be  directed  by  leaders  of  their 
own  species,  whom  they  implicitly  obey,  and  who  head  their 
march.  As  they  are  gregarious  animals,  such  an  instinct 
must  be  exceedingly  useful  to  them,  in  the  unfrequented  wil- 
dernesses through  which  they  travel.  They  will  thus  profit 
by  the  experience  of  their  captain,  who  is  always  probably 
one  of  the  oldest  and  most  experienced  of  the  herd  ;  for,  that 
many  of  the  inferior  animals  do  learn  by  experience,  and 
thus  show  a  sagacity  above  mere  instinct,  it  is  impossible  to 
doubt.  The  same  subjection  to  leaders,  in  their  movements, 
is  observable  in  the  elephant.  The  Hottentots  told  Mr. 
Pringle,  that,  in  the  dense  thorny  forests,  the  great  bull  ele- 
phants always  march  in  the  van,  bursting  through  the  jun- 
gle, treading  down  the  prickly  brushwood,  and  breaking  off 
with  their  trunks  the  larger  branches  that  obstruct  their  pas- 
sage, while  the  females  and  younger  part  follow  them  in 
single  file. 

That  the  younger  or  more  feeble  should  voluntarily  sub- 
ject themselves  to  the  guidance  of  the  stronger,  indicates  a 
fine  instinct ;  but  it  is  not  so  surprising  in  the  case  of  the  ele- 
phant, where  it  would  appear  that  all  the  largest  males  of 
the  herd  take  the  precedence,  as  it  is  in  the  instance  of  the 
rein-deer,  who  seem  to  select  a  single  leader,  and  obey  him, 
as  if  he  were  invested  with  lawful  authority.  By  what 
principle,  whether  of  instinct  or  of  something  approaching 
nearer  to  the  faculty  of  reason,  this  sagacious  race  look  up, 
with  common  consent,  to  one  individual  of  the  herd,  it  seems 
difficult  to  determine  ;  but,  however  this  may  be,  it  does  not 
less  display  the  paternal  care  of  the  Creator.  Something  ap- 
proaching to  the  same  habit  is  found  in  other  gregarious 
animals.  The  Mongalian  antelopes  have  their  leader,  whom 
they  follow  in  regular  files.  The  old  ram  of  the  flock, — 
the  bull  among  Ihe  kine, — the  dunghill  cock,  who  has 
proved  his  superior  prowess  and  courage, — each,  in  its  own 
department,  exercises  a  sway,^approaching,  in  the  last  men- 
tioned, to  a  species  of  petty  despotism, — which  indicates  an 
inferior  degree  of  the  same  principle.     Indeed,  were  we  bet- 


228 


CHRISTMAS-DAY. 


ter  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  gregarious  animals,  the  re- 
markable property  of  subjection  to  a  superior,  would  proba- 
bly be  found  to  be  far  more  extended,  than  may  at  first  sight 
appear ;  for  wherever  living  beings  congregate  and  act  in 
concert,  some  presiding  intellect,  if  not  absolutely  necessary, 
is  yet  of  great  utility ;  and  it  is  a  new  instance  of  the  wis- 
dom and  benevolence  of  the  Creator,  that,  where  He  has 
been  pleased  to  bestow  the  social  instinct.  He  should  also 
have  so  generally  bestowed  a  quality,  by  which  the  peace 
and  welfare  of  the  respective  communities  are  essentially 
promoted  ;  and  that,  among  the  various  tribes  of  lower  ani- 
mals, from  the  mighty  elephant  to  the  tiny  bee, — the  most 
wonderful  of  them  all, — the  important  principle  of  subor- 
dination should  be  so  widely  diffused. 


EIGHTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

CHRISTMAS-DAY. 

This  day  is  usually  consecrated  to  the  remembrance  or 
solemn  celebration  of  our  blessed  Lord's  nativity.  Though 
not  disposed  to  look  with  favor  on  the  pompous  ceremonials 
with  which  it  is  greeted  by  several  branches  of  the  Church, 
even  were  it  clearly  proved  to  be  the  true  anniversary,  we 
yet  deem  it  a  profitable  and  pleasing  duty  to  turn  our 
thoughts  this  morning  to  the  great  event  which  occurred  at 
Bethlehem,  and  which  was  destined  to  usher  in  the  dawn  of 
our  glorious  day. 

Who,  then,  was  He  that  was  born  at  Bethlehem,  and 
whose  birth  was  attended  by  every  circumstance  of  poverty 
and  meanness?  The  humble  mother,  the  lowly  stable,  the 
manger,  the  poorness  and  obscurity  of  the  place,  the  absence 
of  all  public  rejoicing,  declared  it  to  be  no  earthly  Prince 
that  was  born,  the  joy  of  his  sceptered  father,  and  the  hope  of 
nations ;  but  only  an  infant  who  might,  in  future  years,  have 
nowhere  to  lay  his  head,  and  might  live  and  die  unknown. 


CHRISTMAS-DAY.  229 

Herein  lay  the  humiliation  of  God's  incarnate  Son.  Yet  the 
bursting  of  Heaven's  gates  at  the  midnight  hour ;  the  glad 
announcement  to  the  awe-struck  shepherds ;  and  the  enrap- 
tured song  of  the  heavenly  host  singing,  '  Glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men  ;'  the 
miraculous  star,  and  the  wise  men  of  the  East  bringing  cost- 
ly gifts,  and  offering  them  in  lowly  adoration, — proclaimed 
the  advent  of  that  celestial  King  who  was  to  rule  in  Zion, — 
even  of  the  beloved  Son  of  God,  in  whom  He  was  well  pleas- 
ed. Humble  was  the  guise  in  which  the  Messiah  appeared, 
and  unheeded  by  a  sinful  world  the  hour  of  His  birth  ;  but 
a  few  rays  of  His  glory  ♦were  permitted  thus  early  to  shine 
forth,  and  declare  to  a  chosen  band  the  secret  of  His  great- 
ness. The  tongue  of  man  was  silent  on  that  most  joyful  of 
all  occasions ;  but  angel  harps  were  visibly  struck  to  cele- 
brate the  new-born  Saviour  of  mankind. 

And  what  was  the  life,  on  earth,  of  Him  who  thus  came 
in  glory  and  humiliation  ?  It  was  that  of  a  deliverer  of  man. 
But  did  He  overturn  the  thrones  of  blaspheming  tyranny, 
and  hurl  to  the  dust,  with  an  arm  of  physical  power,  the  vain 
pride  of  mortals?  Did  he  trample  down  the  haughty  and 
the  great,  and  exalt  the  humble  poor  ?  Did  He  take  signal 
vengeance  upon  the  crafty  and  blood-stained  ministers  of 
idolatry,  and  vindicate  the  majesty  of  Jehovah  by  the  visible 
overthrow  of  their  hideous  altars  and  shrines  ?  No  ;  though 
the  greatest  of  deliverers.  He  did  none  of  these  things.  He 
was  the  meekest  of  the  sons  of  men.  He  went  about  con 
tmually  doing  good ;  and,  wherever  He  went.  He  scattered 
the  heavenly  light  of  truth.  Along  with  the  benevolence 
and  the  wisdom,  He  displayed  also  the  power  of  the  God- 
head. He  proclaimed  to  all  that  would  come  unto  Him,  the 
forgiveness  of  sins ;  and  He  healed  the  most  loathsome 
and  fatal  bodily  diseases,  in  token  of  His  power  to  heal  the 
great  maladies  of  the  soul.  He  came  to  overthrow  the  king- 
dom of  Satan,  and  He  showed  His  ability  to  achieve  the 
mighty  deed,  by  casting  out  the  unclean  spirits  which  execu- 
ted the  purposes  of  that  evil  Power.  It  was  also  His  office 
VOL.  rv.  20 


230  CHRISTMAS-DAY. 

*  to  bring  life  and  immortality  to  light ;'  and  to  prove,  by  the 
clearest  eridence,  that  resurrection  which  He  taught,  He 
raised  the  corpse,  already  mouldering  in  its  decay,  and  gave 
back  the  lost  and  the  lamented  to  their  weeping  friends.  He 
poured  on  the  sightless  eyeball  the  light  of  day,  and  on  the 
long  benighted  soul  the  cheering  radiance  of  mercy  and 
truih.  Every  word  and  action  showed  His  love  to  man,  and 
vra2  fraught  with  the  sublimest  meaning. 

Such  was  the  life  of  the  Redeemer,  as  it  is  recorded  by  His 
chosen  followers, — a  bfe  which,  though  sketched,  as  it  were, 
m  outline,  yet  carries  upon  it  the  significant  stamp  of  divini- 
ty. A  celebrated  infidel,*  apparently  overpowered,  for  the 
aioment,  by  the  moral  beauty  and  harmony  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, in  one  of  his  works  declares  that  '  the  inventor  of  the 
Gospel  would  be  a  more  astonishing  character  than  the  hero.' 
A  nobler  or  more  striking  sentiment  could  scarcely  have 
proceeded  from  the  lips  of  a  believer  in  our  holy  faith.  Yes ! 
the  character  of  Jesus  was  unimaginable  by  mortal  man. 
That  humility,  sustained  by  Divine  dignity ;  that  benevolence, 
80  free  from  ostentation  ;  that  prudence,  so  closely  conjoined 
with  courage ;  that  compassion  for  human  suffering,  so  far 
removed  from  any  tolerance  of  human  sin  ;  that  patience  and 
benignity;  that  holiness  and  love,  which  adorned  the  Sa- 
viour's walk  on  earth — lay  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  finite 
conception.  It  is  the  province  of  imagination,  when  called 
into  play  by  some  powerful  emotion,  to  form  sublime  or  beau- 
tiful ideal  pictures  from  the  stores  furnished  by  our  percep- 
tion of  material  things ;  to  preside  over  the  creations  of  the 
painter  or  the  poet,  who  study  nature  and  human  life,  in  order 
to  supply  their  peculiar  mental  power  with  appropriate  im- 
agery. Imagination  can  only  arrange  into  new  combinations 
the  ideas  drawn  from  this  living  world  ;  its  range  is  limited 
by  our  experience  ;  the  groups  and  images  it  creates  may  be 
new,  but  the  constituent  parts  of  these  are  solely  derived  from 
what  we  see  and  hear.  Magnificent  and  glowing  may  be 
the  ideal  scenery  it  draws, — of  superhuman  excellence  the 
♦  Rousseau. 


CHRISTMAS-DAY.  23 1 

moral  hero  that  it  places  before  the  eye  of  the  mind ;  but  the 
elements  of  the  one  and  of  the  other  are  merely  of  this  earth, 
and  are  marked  with  the  imperfection  and  mortal  stain  of  all 
things  earthly.  The  fine  creations  of  a  Virgil  or  a  Plato  are 
palpably  but  the  imaginings  of  beings  with  limited  faculties, 
and  corrupt  moral  natures,  whose  experience  is  only  mun- 
dane, and  whose  fancy  is  fed  with  the  imagery  of  a  fallen 
world.  Who,  then,  could  have  conceived  the  character  of  the 
Son  of  God,  manifested  on  earth,  in  human  form  ?  The  ma- 
terials of  such  a  conception  were  unknown.  They  lay  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Eternal  Father,  unseen,  unheard  of,  by  mor- 
tal eye  or  ear.  Beyond  the  reach  of  the  most  seraphic  im- 
agination, they  never  could  have  been  embodied  and  presen- 
ted to  the  filmed  vision  of  man,  by  any  of  his  race.  How 
could  that  Divine  love,  which  glowed  in  the  bosom  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  have  been  imagined  by  one  in  whose  heart  dwelt 
pride,  hatred,  and  all  the  evil  passions  1  Can  it  even  yet  be 
fathomed  by  the  loftiest  intellect  ?  Into  whose  mind  could  it 
have  entered  to  surround  an  imagined  incarnate  God  with 
every  circumstance  of  suffering  and  humiliation?  Who 
could,  in  a  few  simple  Avords,  have  drawn  a  picture  of  the 
human  heart,  the  fidelity  of  which  all  are  at  once  compelled 
to  own  ?  Who  could  have  opened  such  a  spring  of  consola- 
tion as  that  unlocked  by  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ?  Who  could 
have  discovered  such  a  simple  and  efficacious  remedy  for  the 
great  disease  of  our  nature  as  that  contained  in  the  Gospel  ? 
Who  could  have  presented  such  objects  to  love,  such  promi- 
ses to  hope,  such  solemn  and  elevating  mysteries  to  faith  ? 
The  gospel  an  invention  !  Jesus  Christ  a  fictitious  character ! 
This,  unbeliever,  would  be  a  miracle  of  miracles ;  a  phe- 
nomenon wholly  incomprehensible ;  at  utter  variance  with 
all  we  know  of  the  human  mind  ;  plainly  transcending,  in- 
deed, its  loftiest  efTorts ;  an  inscrutable  enigma  in  the  history 
of  man. 

Who  can  describe  the  consequences  of  the  Redeemer's  life 
and  death  ?  The  tongues  of  angels  would  falter  and  fail  in 
the  attempt.     The  world  with  all  its  sin  and  suflTering,  was 


232 


CHRISTMAS-DAY. 


permitted  to  exist,  only  that  Christ  might  proclaim  and  com- 
plete his  salvation  ;  and  it  still  exists,  only  that  it  may  become 
/he  wide  theatre  of  His  glory.  The  light  from  Heaven  that 
first  shone  forth  among  the  mountains  of  Judea,  though  it 
has  often  been  obscured,  and  even  disastrously  eclipsed,  now 
shines,  and  will  continue  to  shine,  with  a  far-spreading  radi- 
ance. Darkness  is  flying  before  it.  Idolatry  is  hiding  her 
monstrous  head  ;  and  nations,  at  length  disenthralled,  and 
joyously  surprised,  are  stretching  forth  their  arms  to  hail 
their  rising  day.  The  inspired  record  of  redemption  is  being 
borne  by  all  the  winds  of  heaven  to  distant  shores ;  and  the 
church,  in  sublime  hope,  is  waiting  the  result.  The  conse- 
quences of  the  Redeemer's  life  and  death !  Their  number 
and  grandeur  overpower  the  imagination.  Who  shall  tell 
the  tears  that  have  been  wiped  away,  the  hopes  that  have 
been  inspired,  the  guilty  passions  quelled,  and  the  moral  en- 
ergy infused  by  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  ?  What  tran- 
quil happiness — what  sanctifying  devotion — what  benevolent 
deeds  and  aspirations  have  resulted  from  the  glorious  Gos- 
pel !  And  O,  how  can  we  contemplate,  in  thought,  the  pre- 
sent and  the  future  ransomed  millions,  that  shall,  through  a 
rapturous  eternity,  encompass  the  throne  of  the  Lamb,  with- 
out being  lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  adoration ! 

Such  are  the  thoughts  that  ought  to  employ  us,  not  only  as 
oft  as  this  joyful  anniversary  comes  round,  but  as  oft  as  the 
morning  dawns,  or  the  shades  of  evening  close  around  us.  On 
our  Sabbaths,  and  other  solemn  seasons,  the  birth,  life,  and 
death  of  our  Redeemer,  may  be  dwelt  upon  with  peculiar 
and  blessed  effect ;  but  yet  they  belong  to  all  times,  and  af- 
ford, on  all  occasions,  appropriate  themes  of  meditation.  O, 
then,  let  the  rising  orb  of  day  be  ever  linked  in  our  minds 
with  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  and  let  the  sweetest  star  of 
eve  ever  remind  us  of  the  Star  of  Bethlehem !  J.  D. 


NO    SEASON   UNPLEASANT  233 

EIGHTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

NO    SEASON   UNPLEASANT    TO    THE    CHEERFUL    MIND. 

This  is  a  season  set  apart,  by  almost  universal  consent,  in 
the  christian  world,  as  a  time  of  festivity.  The  friendly 
greetings  of  the  season  owe  their  origin,  in  a  great  measure 
to  religious  feelings,  although  they  are  very  seldom  conduct- 
ed in  a  religious  spirit.  There  is  much  reason  to  regret  the 
abuse,  while  we  cannot  condemn  the  principle  on  which  the 
enjoyments  of  this  anniversary  were  originally  founded.  To 
the  Christian,  the  advent  of  the  Son  of  God  is  indeed  '  good 
tidings  of  great  joy ;'  and  when  his  rejoicings  truly  take  their 
rise  from  a  grateful  and  pious  recollection  of  this  most  glo- 
rious event,  which  was  the  harbinger  of '  peace  on  earth,'  and 
the  pledge  of '  good  will  towards  men,'  it  cannot  but  produce 
a  salutary  effect  upon  the  mind. 

'  There  is  something  in  the  very  season  of  the  year,'  says 
Washington  Irving,  taking  another  view  of  the  subject, '  that 
gives  a  charm  to  the  festivity  of  Christmas.  At  other  times, 
we  derive  a  great  portion  of  our  pleasures  from  the  mere 
beauties  of  Nature.  Our  feelings  sally  forth  and  dissipate 
themselves  over  the  sunny  landscape,  and  we  "  live  abroad 
and  every  where  ;" — the  song  of  the  bird,  the  murmur  of  the 
stream,  the  breathing  fragrance  of  spring,  the  soft  voluptuous- 
ness of  summer,  the  golden  pomp  of  autumn, — earth,  with  its 
mantle  of  refreshing  green,  and  heaven  with  its  deep  deli- 
cious blue,  and  its  cloudy  magnificence, — all  fill  us  with  mute 
but  exquisite  delight,  and  we  revel  in  the  luxury  of  mere 
sensation.  But,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  when  Nature  lies  de- 
spoiled of  every  charm,  and  wrapped  in  her  shroud  of  sheet- 
ed snow,  we  turn  for  our  gratifications  to  moral  sources.  The 
dreariness  and  desolation  of  the  landscape,  the  short  gloomy 
days,  and  darksome  nights,  while  they  circumscribe  our  wan- 
derings, shut  in  our  feelings,  also,  from  rambling  abroad,  and 

20* 


234  TO    THE    CHEERFUL    MIND. 

make  us  more  keenly  disposed  for  the  pleasures  of  the  sociax 
circle.' 

There  is  truth  in  this  view,  as  applicable  to  a  rightly  con- 
stituted mind ;  but,  on  the  temper  and  feelings  of  the  selfish 
and  querulous,  a  very  different  effect  is  produced.  A  per- 
son of  this  disposition  usually  gives  way  to  a  feeling  of  bodi- 
ly uneasiness,  and  is  visibly  disturbed  by  the  coldness  and  fog 
of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  unpleasant  state  of  the  ground. 
He  exaggerates  the  peculiar  inconveniences  of  the  season, 
and  invests  the  gloom  of  the  long-continued  storm  with  his 
own  deeper  gloominess.  He  dwells  with  a  sort  of  satisfaction 
on  every  circumstance  of  annoyance,  and  rejects  every  ray  of 
comfort ;  unlike  the  more  grateful  earth,  that,  in  the  midst  of 
almost  incessant  darkness  a;nd  storm,  so  soon  as  the  sun  scat- 
ters for  an  instant  the  thick  clouds,  is  kindled  into  a  smile, 
and  seems  to  anticipate  the  coming  gladness  of  spring.  These 
are  the  symptoms  of  a  mental  disease  not  uncommon  at  this 
period,  and  in  this  portion  of  the  globe. 

Whatever  be  the  cause  of  this  disorder,  it  is  undoubtedly 
heightened  in  its  virulence  by  the  high  notions  and  exquisite 
feeling  of  comfort^  consequent  upon  the  progress  of  society 
amongst  us,  and  the  still  ascending  scale  of  our  enjoyments. 
Our  barbarian  forefathers,  even  in  the  depth  of  winter,  could 
repose  their  weary  limbs  upon  a  pillow  of  heath  in  the  open 
air,  gathering,  like  the  oaks  of  their  country,  strength  and 
hardihood  from  the  storm.  They  seemed  utterly  insensible 
to  the  numberless  small  discomforts  that  their  descendants 
make  or  find  in  the  gloomy  weather  and  bleak  dominion  of 
winter.  They  had  neither  the  defences  against  the  inclem- 
ency of  the  season,  nor  the  resources  of  domestic  recreation 
that  we  enjoy ;  and  yet  we  are  apt  to  murmur  and  complain, 
as  if  our  circumstances  and  theirs  were  exactly  reversed. 
We  have  secure  and  comfortable  homes,  conveniences  in 
clothing  and  shelter  of  which  they  never  dreamed,  the  sweets 
of  refined  society,  the  mental  luxury  of  books,  and  numerous 
fascinating  amusements,  equally  innocent  and  useful ;  and 
yet.  notwithstanding  these  multiplied  blessings,  we  can  yield 


NO    SEASON   UNPLEASANT 


235 


to  low  impatience  and  despondency,  if,  haply,  the  wintry 
tempest,  however  magnificent  and  sublime  in  its  appearance 
and  effects,  hinder  our  rural  excursions,  or  transiently  affect 
our  frames  with  its  moisture  and  its  cold. 

Into  such  ingratitude  are  we  ever  disposed  to  fall.  Instead 
of  cultivating  cheerfulness  at  all  times  and  in  all  seasons,  we 
too  frequently  lapse  into  moroseness  and  melancholy.  If,  in 
place  of  allowing  ourselves  to  be  disturbed  by  any  state  of 
the  weather  or  of  the  country  around  us,  we  kept  steadily  in 
view  the  various  comforts  and  enjoyments  within  our  reach 
at  every  period  of  the  year,  we  should  only  be  fulfilling  an 
important  duty  ;  and  we  should  also  be  on  the  surest  way  to 
attain  that  serenity  of  mind  which  is  its  own  reward.  That 
hahit  of  cheerfulness  would  thus  be  formed,  which  constitutes 
no  small  portion  of  the  philosophy  of  daily  life  ;  and  cheer- 
fulness, when  once  it  becomes  a  habitual  feeling,  finds  food 
and  nourishment  in  all  scenes  and  seasons.  As  the  man 
who  is  keenly  alive  to  the  subhme  and  the  beautiful  in  Na- 
ture frequently  finds  the  cherished  feelings  of  his  soul  minis- 
tered unto  by  objects  that  to  other  minds  have  in  them  nothing 
to  attract  or  enliven,  so  the  cheerful  mind  derives  enjoyment 
from  scenery  the  most  unpromising,  and  perceives,  even  in 
the  desolation  of  winter,  a  beauty  and  an  expression  of  its 
own. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  bee  extracts  honey,  and  the  spi- 
der poison,  from  the  same  flower  ;  but,  perhaps,  with  greater 
truth  may  this  be  figuratively  affirmed  of  men  of  different 
dispositions ;  for,  whatever  be  the  condition  of  the  fretful  or 
the  self-indulgent,  the  cheerful  man  finds  the  prevailing  feel- 
ing of  his  mind  reflected  back  upon  him,  as  it  were,  from  all 
the  varied  phenomena  of  the  seasons.  He  looks  at  Nature 
through  a  medium  that  has  to  him  all  the  effects  of  fabled  en- 
chantment. As  the  eye  of  the  painter  or  the  poet  is  quick  to 
discern  in  every  landscape  the  subtle  elements  of  his  creative 
art,  so  does  he  by  a  seeming  intuition,  by  an  almost  uncon- 
scious alchymy  of  the  mind,  select  from  the  concomitants  of 
every  passing  season  all  that  is  fitted  to  compensate  his  inci- 


236  TO   THE    CHEERFUL    MIND. 

dental  privations,  and  to  inspire  that  tempered  gladness  which 
it  is  his  object  to  attain.  The  winds  of  winter  may  blow 
coldly  over  the  ravaged  earth,  and  bewail  the  departed  glo- 
ries of  the  year  ;  the  mountains  may  be  hid  from  his  eye  in 
thickest  clouds  ;  the  fields  and  groves  may  be  verdureless  and 
dead ;  but  these  only  enhance  the  endearments  of  his  home, 
and  heighten  his  gratitude  for  all  the  blessings  congregated 
there. 

The  peculiar  delights  of  the  domestic  hearth  at  this  sea- 
son have  already  been  noticed  ;  and  I  need  scarcely  here  re- 
mark, that  these  can  only  be  enjoyed  in  all  their  power,  by 
the  bosom  in  which  contentment  and  tranquillity  reign.  The 
fine  enjoyments  of  home  shun  the  stormy  breast,  and  take 
up  their  abode  with  him  Avho  is  of  a  cheerful  temper,  and 
who  finds,  in  '  all  seasons  and  their  change,'  matter  of  grati 
tude  and  delight.  Winter, '  stern  ruler  of  the  inverted  year,' 
may  ravage  the  loved  scenery  around  His  dwelling;  but, 
within  his  own  breast,  and  in  his  dear  family  circle,  their 
reigns  a  summer  of  social  and  domestic  joy.  The  glories 
of  the  calm  autumnal  day  may  have  vanished  ;  but  the  sub- 
limer  glories  of  the  nocturnal  heavens  more  frequently  greet 
his  enraptured  sight,  brightly  beaming  through  the  clear 
frosty  air.  In  the  deadness  of  Nature  he  sees  her  necessary 
repose  before  another  spring ;  the  rain,  the  frost,  and  the 
snow,  are,  in  his  regard,  sent  by  the  almighty  Father  to  fer- 
tilize the  soil,  and  herald  the  bounty  of  another  harvest. 

Thus  it  is  beneficially  ordained,  that  the  happy  and  con- 
tented spirit  should  find  at  all  times  the  means  of  enjoyment. 
The  great  Framer  of  the  human  mind  has  exquisitely  adapt- 
ed the  external  world  to  its  various  feelings  and  powers  ; 
and  when  these  are  in  healthful  action.  Nature,  in  her  win- 
try as  well  as  her  vernal  aspects,  is  full  of  beauty  and  har- 
mony. Though  the  flowery  and  the  fruitful  seasons  of  the 
year  may  be  over  and  gone,  and  the  blasts  of  winter  howl 
among  the  desolate  mountains,  the  past  is  without  regret,  the 
present  full  of  enjoyment,  and  the  future  rich  in  hope.  How 
should  we  then  adore  that  Divine  goodness,  which  has  given 


PROOFS    OP   DIVINE   BENEVOLENCE.  237 

US  the  power  to  enjoy  the  seasons  as  they  pass  m  grand  suc- 
cession before  us ;  and,  even  among  the  sternest  scenes  of 
winter,  to  behoM  in  vision  the  luxuriant  beauty  of  spring ! 

J.  D. 


NINTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

PROOFS     OF     DIVINE     BENEVOLENCE    IN     THE     WORKS    OF 
CREATION. 

'  Contrivance  proves  design,'  argues  Dr.  Paley  ;  '  and  the 
prominent  tendency  of  the  contrivance  indicates  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  designer.  The  world  abounds  with  contrivances ; 
and  all  the  contrivances  we  are  acquainted  with  are  directed 
to  beneficial  purposes.  Evil,  no  doubt,  exists ;  but  it  is 
never,  that  we  can  perceive,  the  object  of  contrivance. 
Teeth  are  contrived  to  eat,  not  to  ache  ;  their  aching  now 
and  then  is  incidental  to  the  contrivance,  perhaps  inseparable 
from  it ;  or  even,  if  you  will,  let  it  be  called  a  defect  in  the 
contrivance ;  but  it  is  not  the  object  of  it.  This  is  a  distinc- 
tion that  well  deserves  being  attended  to.  In  describing  im- 
plements of  husbandry,  you  would  hardly  say  of  a  sickle, 
that  it  is  made  to  cut  the  reaper's  fingers,  though,  from  the 
construction  of  the  instrument,  and  the  manner  of  using  it, 
this  mischief  often  happens.  But,  if  you  had  occasion  to 
describe  instruments  of  torture  or  execution,  this,  you  would 
say,  is  to  extend  the  sinews  ;  this  to  dislocate  the  joints  ;  this 
to  break  the  bones  ;  this  to  scorch  the  soles  of  the  feet.  Here 
pain  and  misery  are  the  very  objects  of  the  contrivance. 
Now,  nothing  of  this  sort  is  to  be  found  in  the  Avorks  of  na- 
ture. We  never  discover  a  train  of  contrivance  to  bring 
about  an  evil  purpose.  No  anatomist  ever  discovered  a  sys- 
tem of  organization  calculated  to  produce  pain  and  disease  ; 
or,  in  explaining  the  parts  of  the  human  body,  ever  said, 
this  is  to  irritate ;  this  to  inflame  ;  this  duct  is  to  convey  the 


238  PROOFS    OF    DIVINE    BENEVOLENCE 

gravel  to  the  kidneys  ;  this  gland  to  secrete  the  humour  which 
forms  the  gout.  If  by  chance  he  come  at  a  part  of  which 
he  knows  not  the  use,  the  most  he  can  say  is,  that  it  is  use- 
less. No  one  ever  suspects  that  it  is  put  there  to  incommode, 
to  annoy  or  torment.  Since,  then,  God  hath  called  forth  his 
consummate  wisdom  to  contrive  and  provide  for  our  happiness ; 
and  the  world  appears  to  have  been  constituted  with  this  de- 
sign at  first,  so  long  as  this  constitution  is  upheld  by  Him, 
we  must,  in  reason,  suppose  the  same  design  to  continue.'* 

This  is  a  beautiful,  and,  in  many  respects  a  just  view  of 
the  constitution  of  nature,  with  reference  to  living  beings ; 
which,  while  it  does  not  account  for  the  origin  of  evil,  nor 
vindicate  its  existence,  yet  undeniably  proves  benevolence  in 
the  great  Creator.  Had  He  been  malevolent,  we  should  cer- 
tainly have  met  with  malevolent  contrivances ;  had  He  been 
indifferent  to  good  and  evil,  we  should  not  have  so  constantly 
found,  in  all  the  contrivances  of  nature,  a  regard  to  happi- 
ness. Still,  it  must  never  be  forgotten,  that  the  same  Divine 
power,  which  called  such  a  world  as  ours  into  existence, 
might  have  formed  it  free  from  both  moral  and  natural  evil ; 
and  this  proves,  beyond  contradiction,  that  this  wise  and  be- 
nevolent being  did  not  admit  the  presence  of  evil,  without  a 
wise  and  benevolent  design,  whatever  that  may  be.  Paley, 
in  his  eagerness  to  vindicate  the  Divine  perfections,  seems 
sometimes  to  lose  sight  of  that  important  truth,  and  to  argue 
as  if  evil  were  either  an  unavoidable  incident  of  creation,  or 
an  effect  of  chance,  both  of  which  are  obviously  untenable 
positions  ;  and,  if  such  tendency  can  be  discovered  in  the  ar- 
gument quoted  above,  I  am  not  inclined  to  justify  it.  The 
fact  that  all  the  contrivances  of  Nature  arc  benevolent,  so  far 
as  they  go,  is  all  that  I  contend  for.  The  existence  of  evil, 
in  spite  of  this,  is  to  be  accounted  for  on  another  principle, 
the  nature  of  which  we  can  only  understand,  as  I  have 
already  stated,  by  studying  the  book  of  Revelation. 

Referring  to  the  subject  we  were  considering  during  the 

*  Paley's  Moral  Philosophy,  book  ii.  chap.  5. 


IN    THE    WORKS    OF    CREATION.  239 

last  week,  the  migration  of  animals,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  Creator,  if  He  had  so  willed,  might  have  constituted 
their  frames  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  winter  as  profuse 
of  blessings  to  them,  in  their  native  haunts,  as  summer,  and 
thus  have  prevented  the  necessity  of  the  long  journeys 
which  some  of  them  are  impelled  to  take  ;  that  is  to  say,  in- 
stead of  contrivances  to  avoid  or  mitigate  evils.  He  could 
have  removed  the  evils  themselves  ahogether  ;  and,  in  their 
place,  have  bestowed  positive  enjoyment.  That  He  has  not 
done  so,  is  one  of  those  striking  peculiarities  in  the  Divine 
administration,  of  which  we  can  find  no  adequate  solution 
in  natural  appearances,  and  for  explanation  of  which,  we 
must  refer  to  another  source.  This  view  has  already  been 
stated  ;  but,  as  it  meets  us  at  every  turn,  and  qualifies  all  our 
reasonings,  it  is  necessary  constantly  to  recur  to  it. 

Taking  the  constitution  of  Nature  as  we  find  it,  we  have 
abundant  reason  to  perceive  indications  of  goodness,  as  well 
as  of  wisdom,  in  the  migratory  propensities  which  the  crea- 
tor has  so  wonderfully  impressed  on  the  winged  creation,  as 
well  as  in  those  contrivances  by  which  the  rigour  of  winter 
is  softened  to  the  various  tribes  who  are  not  furnished  with 
this  resource.  Besides  the  views  of  this  subject  already 
taken,  there  is  another,  which  ought  not  to  be  omitted. 
There  is  a  pleasure  attached  by  the  Author  of  our  being  to 
variety.  I  do  not  know  whether  or  not  this  pleasure  is  felt 
by  the  inferior  creation  ;  but,  assuredly,  it  is  a  constituent 
feature  of  the  human  mind.  Now,  observe  one  of  the  pro- 
visions made  for  the  gratification  of  this  source  of  enjoyment, 
in  the  changes  effected  by  .the  migratory  habits  of  birds. 
The  very  same  swallows,  which  '  twitter  from  the  straw-built 
sheds'  of  Britain,  during  the  summer  months,  delight  the 
swarthy  sons  of  Africa  in  winter,  as  they  dart  after  their  in- 
sect prey,  along  the  plains  of  that  distant  continent.  The 
same  cuckoo,  too,  which  stopped  the  little  satchelled  urchin. 
on  his  way  from  school,  in  this  civilized  land,  that  he  migb 
imitate  the  well  known  lay,  startles  the  ear  of  the  young 
African  savage,  as  he  roams  over  his  native  wilds.     The 


240  PROOFS   OF    DIVINE   BENEVOLENCE 

birds  of  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Iceland,  supply  the  blank 
made  by  the  retiring  of  our  summer  residents ;  while  those 
which  leave  our  shores  in  autumn  for  the  south,  probably 
only  occupy  the  regions  left  vacant  by  the  transit  of  the  sum- 
mer visitants  of  those  countries  to  still  more  southerly  lati- 
tudes. Thus  a  constant  interchange  of  the  feathered  tribes 
is  kept  up,  to  attract  the  curiosity,  and  gratify  the  love  of  va- 
riety implanted  in  the  heart  of  man  ;  while  these  interesting 
tenants  of  the  air,  doubtless,  fulfil  another  benevolent  inten- 
tion of  their  Creator,  by  feeding  on  the  insects  which  the 
warm  climates  so  abundantly  produce ;  thus  providing 
against  their  increase  to  such  undue  extent  as  to  destroy,  or 
materially  to  injure,  animals  of  a  higher  grade,  and  disturb 
the  beautiful  balance  of  Nature. 

But,  m  regarding  the  provisions  of  the  God  of  Nature  for 
the  welfare  of  the  animated  creation  during  this  comparative- 
ly dismal  season,  and  tracing  the  hand  of  a  beneficent  Parent 
in  the  tender  care  which  He  manifests  for  their  subsistence 
and  comfort,  we  can  scarcely  avoid  extending  our  thoughts 
farther,  and  raising  them  higher.  The  beautiful  language 
of  our  Saviour,  which  affords  so  just  and  so  encouraging  a 
view  of  the  Universal  Parent,  naturally  occurs,  in  such  a  re- 
view, to  the  pious  mind  : — '  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air  ;  for 
they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns ; 
yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much 
belter  than  they  V  Better,  assuredly,  in  our  moral  and  intel- 
lectual powers,  if  only  these  be  properly  employed  ;  and  the 
sentiment  points  obviously  to  the  higher  destiny,  to  which,  as 
immortal  beings,  we  are  call.ed,  by  Him,  who  brought  life 
and  immortality  to  light. 

The  migration  of  birds  to  fairer  climes,  when  the  storms 
of  winter  gather,  cannot,  indeed,  be  said  to  furnish  any  anal- 
ogy, on  which  we  can  build  a  solid  argument  for  the  exist- 
ence of  a  future  state ;  but  yet  there  is  something  in  the  pa- 
ternal feeling  which  it  indicates,  that,  at  least,  forcibly  recals 
the  promised  blessing  to  the  mind,  and  affords  an  agreeable 
illustration  of  the  revealed  truth. 


IN   THE   WORKS    OF    CREATION.  241 

We  can  fancy  the  bird,  borne  by  a  secret  impulse  from  the 
coming  gloom  and  sterility  of  its  native  haunts,  winging  its 
way  over  sea  and  land,  looking  down  with  indifference  on 
the  placid  expanse  of  the  ocean,  or  rising  far  above  its  stormy 
waves  ;  gliding,  without  the  desire  of  rest  or  food,  over  flow- 
ery plains  and  wide-spread  wastes,  forests,  lakes,  and  moun- 
tains ;  fixing  its  eager  eye  on  the  distant  horizon :  still  on- 
ward— onward  keeping  its  steady  course;  and  giving  no 
rest  to  its  buoyant  wings,  or  at  least  none  except  what  Na- 
ture loudly  demands,  till  it  reach  the  happy  shore  to  which 
an  unseen  hand  was  guiding  it,  and  a  voice,  unheard  by  the 
outward  ear,  was  whispering  all  the  while, '  Behold  the  place 
of  your  rest.'  All  this,  which  every  recurring  year  realizes, 
we  can  paint  to  ourselves,  and  we  can  see,  in  that  wonderful 
flight,  an  emblem  of  the  race  of  the  pious  Christian,  who 
seeks  his  rest  in  heaven.  The  same  unseen  hand  is  guiding 
him  from  the  storms  of  earth  ;  the  same  unheard  voice  com- 
municates inwardly  with  his  conscious  soul ;  with  a  similar 
desire  he  burns ;  with  a  corresponding  eagerness  he  pants ; 
— but  his  view  is  not  bounded  by  a  horizon  of  earth ;  his 
hopes  are  far,  far  beyond  the  regions  of  the  sun  :  to  the  dis- 
tant heavens  he  directs  his  anxious  gaze  ;  before  him  still  he 
sees  a  bloody  track,  and  knows  the  footmarks  of  his  crucified 
Redeemer ;  dim  in  the  distant  sky,  a  shining  spot  appears ; 
on  that  spot  his  anxious  eye  is  fixed ;  it  brightens  and  enlar- 
ges as  he  advances  ;  one  struggle  more  ; — the  ties  which 
bound  him  to  the  world  are  broken  ; — earth  disappears  ; — he 
enters  the  portals  of  heaven  ; — he  is  in  the  arms  of  his  Sa« 
viour — he  is  singing  hosannahs  with  angels  and  blessed 
spirits  before  the  throne  of  God ! 

VOL.  IV.  21 


242  MIGRATION     OF     FISHES. 

NINTH   WEEK— MONDAY. 

AUGPvATION     OF     FISHES. 

There  is  yet  another  class  of  migratory  creatures  which 
we  take  notice  of  here,  ahhough  their  annual  journeys  are 
not  so  immediately  connected  with  temperature,  and  the 
means  of  suhsistence,  as  those  we  have  already  mentioned, 
and  although  these  journeys  do  not  properly  belong  to  this 
season  of  the  year ; — I  allude  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  seas. 
There  is  indeed  one  analogy  by  which  these  numerous  classes 
are  connected,  in  their  change  of  place,  with  the  migratory 
animals  of  the  land — that  of  the  instinct  by  which  they  seek 
for  a  fit  place  for  the  reproduction  of  the  species.  That  this 
is  at  least  one  of  the  laws  wdiich  regulate  the  removals  of  birds 
and  beasts,  Dr.  Jenner  has  very  distinctly  and  ingeniously 
proved,* — showing  that,  when  the  stimulus  connected  with 
propagation  is  felt,  they  commonly  seek  their  summer  quarters? 
and,  when  it  ceases,  retire  to  their  winter  haunts.  To  what- 
ever extent  this  may  be  the  case  with  land  animals,  there  can 
be  no  doubt,  that  such  a  law  has  a  most  powerful  effect  on 
those  which  glide  through  the  waters  of  the  great  deep. 

Of  migratory  fishes,  the  sturgeon,  and  its  gigantic  congener 
the  huso,  are  well  known.  This  latter  species  is  only  to  be 
found  in  the  Caspian  and  Black  Seas,  and  the  rivers  which 
flow  into  them.  It  enters  the  Don  and  Volga,  in  vast  shoals, 
about  the  middle  of  winter,  where  it  spawns,  and  then  re- 
turns to  its  usual  places  of  summer  resort.  The  prodigious 
fertility  of  this  fish  may  be  judged  of  by  the  circumstance, 
that  its  eggs  equal  nearly  a  third  of  its  whole  weight ;  and 
Pallas,  who  gives  an  interesting  account  of  the  mode  of  fish- 
ing the  huso,  mentions  one  which  weighed  no  less  than 
2800  lbs.  Of  these  eggs  the  caviare  is  made,  which  is  in 
great  demand  as  an  article  of  food  among  the  Russians  and 

♦  In  a  paper,  published  after  his  death,  in  the  Philosophical  Transac- 
tions for  1824. 


MIGRATION    OF    FISHES.  243 

Turks,  and  on  which  the  Greeks  are  said  almost  entirely  to 
subsist  during  their  long  fasts. 

The  cod-fish,  the  haddock,  and  the  mackerel,  are  also  dif- 
ferent species  of  migratory  fishes.  The  former  of  these  fre- 
quent shallows  and  sand-banks,  between  the  40°  and  68°  of 
north  latitude,  both  in  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  oceans,  and  is 
taken  in  immense  numbers,  especially  on  the  banks  of  New- 
foundland. This  fish  makes  for  the  coast  at  spawning  time, 
which  takes  place  about  the  end  of  winter.  It  is  said  by 
Leuwenhoek,  that  there  are  more  than  nine  millions  of  eggs 
in  a  cod-fish  of  the  middle  size.  What  a  bountiful  provision 
for  the  numerous  tribes  of  the  broad  ocean,  which  exist  by 
devouring  the  fry,  &c.,  as  they  rise  to  maturity  ! 

But,  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  ocean,  the  herring  is  the 
most  valuable,  as  affording  the  greatest  quantity  both  of  pro- 
fitable employment  and  of  food  to  man.  Three  thousand 
decked  vessels,  of  different  sizes,  besides  smaller  boats,  are 
stated  to  be  employed  in  the  herring  fishery,  with  a  propor" 
tionable  number  of  seamen,  besides  many  thousands  of  hands 
who  are  at  certain  seasons  employed  in  curing  them.  Of 
this  fish,  Kirby  gives  the  following  interesting  account. 

'  The  herring  belongs  to  the  tribe  called  abdominal  fishes, 
or  those  whose  ventral  fins  are  behind  the  pectoral,  and  may 
be  said  to  inhabit  the  Arctic  Seas  of  Europe,  Asia,  and  Ame- 
rica, from  whence  they  annually  migrate,  at  different  times, 
in  search  of  food,  and  to  deposit  their  spawn.  Their  shoals 
consist  of  millions  of  myriads,  and  are  many  leagues  in  width, 
many  fathoms  in  thickness,  and  so  dense  that  the  fishes  touch 
each  other  ;  they  are  preceded,  at  the  interval  of  some  days, 
by  insulated  males.  The  largest  and  strongest  are  said  to 
lead  the  shoals,  which  seem  to  move  in  a-certain  order,  and 
to  divide  into  bands  as  they  proceed,  visiting  the  shores  of 
various  islands  and  countries,  and  enriching  their  inhabitants. 
Their  presence  and  progress  are  usually  indicated  by  various 
sea  birds,  sharks,  and  other  enemies.  One  of  the  cartilagi- 
nous fishes,  the  sea  ape,*  is  said  to  accompany  them  constant- 

*  Chimaera  monstrosa. 


244  MIGRATION    OF   FISHES. 

ly,  and  is  thence  called  the  king  of  the  herrings.  They  throw 
off,  also,  a  kind  of  oily  or  siimy  substance,  which  extends 
over  their  columns,  and  is  easily  seen  in  calm  weather.  This 
substance,  in  gloomy,  still  nights,  exhibits  a  phosphoric  light, 
as  if  a  cloth,  a  little  luminous,  were  spread  over  the  sea. 

'Some  conjecture  may  be  made  of  the  infinite  number  of 
these  invaluable  fishes,  that  are  taken  by  European  nations, 
from  what  Lacepede  relates, — that,  in  Norway,  20,000,000 
have  been  taken  at  u  single  fishing ;  that  there  are  few  years 
that  they  do  not  capture  400,000,000  ;  and  that,  at  Gotten- 
burgh,  and  its  vicinity,  700,000,000  are  annually  taken. 
"  But  what  are  these  millions,"  he  remarks,  "  to  the  incredi- 
ble numbers  that  go  to  the  share  of  the  English,  Dutch,  and 
other  European  nations'?" 

'  Migrations  of  these  fishes  are  stated  to  take  place  at  three 
different  times ;  the  first,  when  the  ice  begins  to  melt,  which 
continues  to  the  end  of  June  ;  then  succeeds  that  of  summer, 
followed  by  the  autumnal  one,  which  lasts  till  the  middle  of 
September.  They  seek  places  for  spawning,  where  stones 
and  marine  plants  abound,  against  which  they  rub  them- 
selves, alternately  on  each  side,  all  the  while  moving  their 
fins  with  great  rapidity.'* 

The  instincts  and  habits  of  the  finny  tribes  are  necessarily 
less  known  than  those  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  land,  where 
their  motions  are  constantly  under  the  eye  of  man ;  but  all 
that  we  do  know  of  them,  proves  that  the  same  wonder- 
working and  beneficent  Power  which  watches  over,  and  so 
mysteriously  guides,  the  living  creation  in  the  regions  of 
earth  and  air,  extends  his  government  and  his  paternal  care 
to  the  vast  ocean ;  adapting  the  various  natures  of  the  crea- 
tures, with  which  he  has  so  abundantly  peopled  it,  with 
consummate  wisdom,  to  the  element  in  which  they  are  des- 
tined to  move ;  providing  for  their  reproduction,  their  sub- 
sistence, and  their  happiness,  in  a  manner  analogous  to,  and 

♦  Kirby's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  vol.  i.  pp.  113-115.  This  account  has 
been  disputed  in  some  of  its  particulars,  and  requires  further  investi- 
gation. 


CETACEOUS   ANIMALS.  245 

yet  different  from,  that  of  the  land  tribes ;  and  both,  in  their 
analogy  and  their  difference,  exhibiting  a  skill  transcending 
all  adequate  expression,  and  filling  the  mind  with  astonish- 
ment and  awe.  No  wonder  that  the  Psalmist,  even  with  his 
comparatively  limited  knowledge,  should  express  his  admi- 
ration in  this  glowing  strain  : — '  O  Lord,  how  manifold  are 
Thy  works  !  In  wisdom  hast  Thou  made  them  all.  The 
earth  is  full  of  Thy  riches ;  so  is  this  great  and  wide  sea, 
wherein  are  things  moving  innumerable,  both  small  and 
great  animals.  There  go  the  ships ;  there  is  that  leviathan, 
whom  Thou  hast  made  to  play  therein.  These  all  wait  up- 
on Thee,  and  Thou  givest  them  their  meat  in  due  season.' 


NINTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

CETACEOUS    ANIMALS.* 

Of  the  migratory  inhabitants  of  the  ocean,  the  most  remark- 
able is  that  class  of  which  the  whale  is  the  chief  As  there 
are  animals  of  a  low  grade,  which,  by  their  structure  and 
amphibious  habits,  seem  intended,  by  the  Author  of  Nature, 
to  form  the  link  between  the  denizens  of  the  land  and  of  the 
sea,  so  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  place  at  the  top  of  the 
scale  of  creatures  whose  'home  is  in  the  deep,'  a  gigantic 
race,  so  nearly  allied  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  land,  that 
many  naturalists  have  denied  it  the  name  of  fish,  and  have 
bestowed  on  it  the  somewhat  awkward  appellation  of  'beast 
of  the  ocean.'  Animals  of  this  genus  resemble  quadrupeds, 
indeed,  as  to  their  structure,  in  many  striking  particulars. 
Like  quadrupeds,  they  have  lungs,  a  stomach,  intestines,  liver, 
spleen,  and  bladder.  Like  quadrupeds,  too,  they  have  a 
heart,  with  its  partitions,  driving  warm  and  red  blood  in  cir- 

*  For  a  great  part  of  this  paper,  I  have  to  acknowledge  my  obliga- 
tions to  Dr.  Bushnan,  the  intelligent  author  of  the  '  Introduction  to  the 
Study  of  Nature.' 

21* 


24G  C£;rACEOLs;  anwials. 

culation  through  the  body ;  they  breathe  the  air ;  they  are 
viviparous  ;  and  they  suckle  their  young  at  the  teat.  Their 
internal  parts,  which  bear  so  close  a  resemblance  to  land 
animals,  are  similarly  protected  from  the  cold,  being  covered, 
like  the  hog,  between  the  skin  and  the  muscles,  with  a  thick 
coat  of  fat  or  blubber.  It  is  this  latter  property  which  ren- 
ders them  valuable  to  man,  by  whom  they  are  so  pertina- 
ciously hunted,  that  it  is  believed  not  one  of  the  largest  spe- 
cies dies  a  natural  death  in  our  northern  seas,  or  arrives 
nearly  at  its  natural  size. 

Notwithstanding  their  close  resemblance  to  quadrupeds, 
however,  in  so  many  particulars,  they  are  not  less  closely 
connected  with  the  families  of  the  sea.  They  are  shaped  as 
fishes ;  they  swim  with  fins ;  they  are  entirely  destitute  of 
hair ;  they  live  wholly  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean, — qualities 
which,  although  the  whale  order  is  justly  ranked  by  natural- 
ists among  Mammalia,  have  procured  for  them,  in  ordinary 
language,  that  distinctive  name,  by  which  we  designate  the 
finny  tribes.*  The  various  species  of  this  animal  are — the 
whale,  and  its  varieties,  the  cachalot,  the  dolphin,  the  gram- 
pus, and  the  porpoise. 

These  cetaceous  animals,  as  they  require  to  breathe  the 
air,  have  holes  at  the  top  of  their  head,  called  spiracles,  cor- 
respondmg  to  the  nostrils  of  land  animals,  which  they  fre- 
quently raise  above  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  through 
which  the  air  finds  access  to  the  lungs.  It  is  through  these 
orifices  that  the  water-spouts  of  the  whale  are  ejected,  accom- 
panied with  a  noise,  loud  as  a  rushing  torrent,  and  rising 
sometimes  to  the  height  of  forty  feet.  These  spouts,  which 
have  occasioned  much  discussion,  consist  merely  of  expired 
air,  and  watery  vapour,  condensed  by  the  cold  of  the  atmos- 
phere. 

The  whale  is  superior  to  all  other  warm-blooded  animals, 
both  from  the  extent  of  the  domain,  which  he  has  held  unin- 
terrupted from  the  beginning  of  time,  and  from  the  enormous 

*  Goldsmith's  Animated  Nature. 


CETACEOUS   ANIMALS.  247 

size  to  which  he  attains.*  The  hippopotamus,  the  elephant, 
the  crocodile,  are  pigmies  to  him  ;  and,  while  they  cower  be- 
fore the  blast,  he  plays  with  the  storm-vexed  ocean,  mounts 
carelessly  upon  the  giant  waves,  lies  like  a  cradled  creature 
'mid  their  dark  and  dismal  furrows,  and,  defying  the  power 
of  the  most  tempestuous  seas,  sinks  in  security  to  the  deep 
profound.  The  strength  of  the  whale  too,  is  prodigious.  '  A 
large  boat,' says  Martins,  in  his  voyage  to  Spitzbergen,  '  he 
valueth  no  more  than  dust ;  for  he  can  beat  it  to  shivers  at  a 
blow.'  The  blows  of  the  tail  of  the  white  shark,  when  haul- 
ed upon  the  decks  of  a  vessel,  are  so  tremendous,  as  to  threat- 
en destruction  to  all  on  board  ;  and,  while  in  the  water,  the 
basking  shark,  when  harpooned,  has  been  known  to  tow  a 
vessel  of  seventy  tons  burden,  at  a  rapid  rate,  against  a  fresh 
gale,  for  a  considerable  distance. 

Against  these  mighty  animals,  man  wages  a  war  so  exter- 
minating, as  to  have  driven  them  from  their  ancient  haunts, 
to  seek  for  safety  in  the  more  inaccessible  parts  of  the  ocean  ; 
here,  however,  they  are  followed.  The  object  is  to  obtain  the 
great  quantity  of  oil  which  is  found  in  what  is  called  their 
blubber.  The  quantity  of  this  oil,  procured  from  the  great 
northern  whale,  frequently  amounts  to  one-twelfth  of  the 
weight  of  its  enormous  carcase  ;  the  tongue  alone,  which  has 
been  said  to  be  '  about  the  size  of  a  great  feather-bed,'  often 
yielding  five  or  six  barrels.  Besides  this  mass  of  subcutane- 
ous fat,  many  cetaceous  animals,  as  the  bottle-nosed  or  sper- 
maceti whale,  have  a  second  collection  of  a  similar  substance, 
except  that  it  is  of  a  purer  quality,  and  firmer  consistence,  in 
a  large  reservoir,  often  16  or  18  feet  long,  and  wide  in  pro- 
portion, at  the  top  of  their  heads,  near  the  spiracles  or  breath- 
ing holes.     This  is  the  spermaceti  of  commerce. 

Here  we  have  a  strong  illustration  of  the  all-provident  care 

*  The  whale  is  said  to  have  been  found,  formerly,  of  the  amazing  size 
of  200  and  even  230  feet;  but  it  seldom  is  permitted,  in  the  present  day, 
to  escape  the  rapacity  of  man,  after  it  has  attained  the  length  of  70  or  80 
feet,  except  in  the  South  Seas,  where  it  may  still  be  occasionally  taken 
of  double  that  size. 


248  CETACEOUS   ANIMALS. 

of  the  Almighty.  The  solid  parts  of  the  body  of  these  ani- 
mals are  heavier  than  water ;  consequently,  had  they  not 
been  provided  with  a  sufficient  supply  ot  some  substance 
lighter  than  water,  by  which  their  tendency  to  sink  might  be 
counteracted,  it  would  have  required  a  constant  effort,  on  their 
parts,  to  keep  themselves  at  any  given  level  below  the  water ; 
and  besides  this,  cetaceous  animals,  unlike  other  fishes,  re- 
quire frequently  to  be  raised  to  the  surface.  It  has,  there- 
fore, been  wisely  provided,  that,  while  the  oil  of  the  blubber 
serves  to  render  the  body  collectively,  lighter  than  the  water 
which  they  inhabit,  the  sperm-aceti  should  render  the  top  of 
the  head  the  most  buoyant  part  of  the  body  ;  and,  in  this  way, 
it  is  kept  above  the  surx^ace  without  any  exertion. 

We  are  indebted  to  Captain  Scoresby  for  the  following  in- 
teresting notices  of  the  Greenland  Whale  Fisheries: — 

'  The  first  impulse  of  the  whale,  when  harpooned,  is  to 
plunge  deep  beneath  the  waves,  going  at  the  rate  of  eight  or 
ten  miles  an  hour,  and  carrying  the  harpoon,  to  which  along 
line  is  attached,  still  fixed  in  the  wound.'  The  depth  to 
which  it  sometimes  plunges,  is  800  fathoms,  and  the  pressure 
there  sustained,  would,  according  to  this  writer,  be  equal  to 
2 11, 200  tons, — a  degree  of  pressure  of  which  we  have  but  an 
imperfect  conception.  '  It  may  assist  our  comprehension, 
however,  to  be  informed  that  it  exceeds  in  weight  sixty  of  the 
largest  ships  of  the  British  navy,  when  manned,  provisioned, 
and  fitted  for  a  six  months'  cruize.' 

'  No  sooner  does  the  exhausted  whale  appear,  than  the  as- 
sisting boats  make  for  the  place,  with  the  utmost  speed,  and, 
as  they  reach  it,  each  harpooner  plunges  his  harpoon  into  its 
back,  to  the  amount  of  three,  four,  or  more,  according  to  the 
size  of  the  whale,  and  the  nature  of  the  situation.  Most  fre- 
quently, it  descends  for  a  few  minutes  after  receiving  the  se- 
cond harpoon,  and  obliges  the  other  boats  to  wait  its  return  to 
the  surface,  before  any  farther  attack  can  be  made.  It  is  af- 
terwards actively  plied  with  lances,  which  are  thrust  into  its 
body,  aiming  at  its  vitals.  At  length,  when  exhausted  by 
numerous  wounds,  and  the  loss  of  blood,  which  flows  from 


CETACEOUS   ANIMALS.  249 

the  huge  animal  in  copious  streams,  it  indicates  the  approach 
of  its  dissolution,  by  discharging  from  its  blow-holes  a  mix- 
ture of  blood,  along  with  the  air  and  mucus  which  it  usually 
breathes  out,  and  finally,  jets  of  blood  alone.  The  sea,  to  a 
great  extent  around,  is  dyed  with  its  blood,  and  the  ice,  boats, 
and  men,  are  sometimes  drenched  with  the  same.  Its  final 
capture  is,  at  times,  preceded  by  a  convulsive  and  energetic 
struggle,  in  which  its  tail,  reared,  whirled,  and  violently  jerk- 
ed in  the  air,  resounds  to  the  distance  of  miles.' 

This  animal  exhibits  such  warm  affections  for  its  mate  and 
its  young,  as  to  excite  the  strongest  sympathy  for  its  fate  in 
the  benevolent  mind ;  and  this  feeling  is  certainly  not  di- 
minished by  the  circumstance,  that  these  very  affections  are 
frequently  made  use  of,  by  the  heartless  avarice  of  man,  to 
decoy  it  into  his  power.  Captain  Scoresby  mentions,  that  the 
cub  is  often  attacked  to  lure  the  mother,  and  when  this  cruel 
plan  is  adopted,  it  generally  succeeds.  '  In  June,  1811,'  says 
he,  giving  an  example,  'one  of  my  harpooners  struck  a  suck- 
er, with  the  hope  of  its  leading  to  the  capture  of  its  mother. 
Presently  she  arose  close  by  the  fast-boat,  and,  seizing  the 
young  one,  dragged  about  100  fathoms  of  line  out  of  the  boat, 
with  remarkable  force  and  velocity.  Again  she  arose  to  the 
surface,  darted  furiously  to  and  fro,  and  frequently  stopped 
short,  or  suddenly  changed  her  direction,  and  gave  every  pos- 
sible intimation  of  extreme  agony.  For  a  length  of  time,  she 
continued  thus  to  act,  though  closely  pursued  by  the  boats ; 
and,  inspired  with  courage  and  resolution,  by  her  concern  for 
her  offspring,  seemed  regardless  of  the  danger  that  surround- 
ed her.  At  length  one  of  the  boats  approached  so  near,  that 
a  harpoon  was  hove  at  her ;  it  hit,  but  did  not  attach  itself. 
A  second  harpoon  Avas  struck  ;  this  also  failed  to  penetrate  ; 
but  a  third  was  more  effectual,  and  held.  Still  she  did  not 
attempt  to  escape,  but  allowed  the  other  boats  to  approach ; 
so  that,  in  a  few  minutes,  three  more  harpoons  were  fastened  ; 
and,  in  the  course  of  an  hour  afterwards,  she  was  killed.' 

There  is  something  exceedingly  interesting  in  the  fact,  that, 
in  these  monsters  of  the  ocean,  the  hand  of  the  Creator  has 


250  mORATION    OF    FISHES 

placed  the  same  kindly  and  disinterested  affections,  which 
ennoble  the  most  exalted  of  his  creatures  who  tread  the  solid 
land,  and  claim  kindred  with  heaven.  And  who  will  ven- 
ture to  call  that  a  morbid  sensibility  which  shrinks  at  the 
recital  of  the  barbarities  to  which  this  fishery  gives  rise? 
The  enormous  size  and  strength  of  the  animal  may  perhaps 
serve  to  excite  the  imagination,  and  call  forth  sympathies 
which  sleep,  when  equal  cruelties  are  inflicted  on  more 
diminutive  animals  ;  but  under  all  circumstances,  man  abuses 
his  prerogative  as  lord  of  this  lower  creation  when  he  wan- 
tonly inflicts  torture  ;  and  whether  the  assertion  be  philoso- 
phically correct  or  not,  it  is  well  to  cultivate  the  humane 
sentiment  which  gave  rise  to  the  well  known  lines  of  the 
great  poet  : — 

'  The  little  beetle  which  we  tread  upon, 
In  corporal  suff'rance  feels  a  pang  as  great 
As  when  a  giant  dies.' 


NINTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

MIGRATION    OF    FISHES    FROM    THE    SEA    INTO    RIVERS. 

With  regard  to  the  tenants  of  the  ocean,  which  periodi- 
cally find  their  way  into  the  fresh  water,  for  the  purpose 
of  spawning,  Mr.  Kirby  gives  the  following  interesting  no- 
tices : — 

'  The  next  tribe  of  migratory  fishes  is  one  whose  several 
species  are  intermediate  between  marine  and  fresh -water 
fishes,  roving,  indifferently,  in  the  sea,  and  rivers,  and  lakes, 
which  thus  is  fitted,  by  Providence,  to  make  up  to  the  in- 
habitants of  inland  countries,  their  distance  from  the  other 
migrators,  by  a  supply,  brought,  as  it  were,  to  their  very 
doors.  The  fishes  in  question,  belong,  like  the  herrings,  to 
the  abdominal  class,  and  form  the  salmon  genus,  including 
the  salmon,  the  salmon-trout,  the  trout,  the  grayling,  the 
char,  the  smelt,  the  hucho,  and  many  other  species.     I  shall 


FROM    THE    SEA    INTO    RIVERS.  251 

however,  confine  my  observations  principally  to  the  king,  as 
it  may  be  called,  of  the  river  migrators, — the  salmon.  In 
our  own  country  this  noble  fish  is  too  high-priced  to  form  a 
general  article  of  food,  and  maybe  reckoned  among  the  luxu- 
ries of  the  rich  man's  table ;  but  in  others,  especially 
amongst  some  of  the  North-western  American  tribes,  they 
are  gifts  of  Providence,  which  form  their  principal  food  at 
all  seasons. 

'  The  salmon,  indeed,  frequents  every  sea,  the  Arctic  as 
well  as  the  Equatorial ;  and  it  is  found  even  in  great  lakes 
and  inland  seas,  as  the  Caspian,  into  which  it  is  even  affirmed 
to  make  its  way  by  a  subterranean  channel  from  the  Persian 
Gulf;*  it  goes  as  far  south  as  New  Holland  and  the  Aus- 
tralian Seas  ;  but  it  is  said  never  to  have  been  found  in  the 
Mediterranean,  and  appears  to  have  been  unknown  to 
Aristotle.  Pliny  mentions  it  as  a  river  fish,  preferred  to  all 
marine  ones  by  the  inhabitants  of  Gaul.  It  traverses  the 
whole  length  of  the  largest  rivers.  It  reaches  Bohemia  by 
the  Elbe,  Switzerland  by  the  Rhine,  and  the  Cordilleias  of 
America  by  the  mighty  Maragnon,  or  river  of  the  Amazons 
whose  course  is  nearly  3000  miles.  In  temperate  climates, 
the  salmon  quits  the  seas  early  in  spring,  when  the  waves 
are  driven  by  a  strong  wind  against  the  river  currents.  It 
enters  the  rivers  of  France,  in  the  beginning  of  the  autumn 
— in  September  ;  and  in  Kamtschatka  and  North  America 
still  later. 

'  They  rush  into  rivers  that  are  freest  from  ice,  or  where 
they  are  carried  by  the  highest  tide,  favoured  by  the  wind  ; 
they  prefer  those  streams  that  are  most  shaded.  They  leave 
the  sea  in  numerous  bands,  formed  with  great  regularity. 
The  largest  individual,  which  is  generally  a  female,  takes 
the  lead,  and  is  followed  by  others  of  the  same  sex,  two  and 
two,  each  pair  being  at  the  distance  of  from  three  to  six  feet 

*  It  is  somewhat  surprising  to  see  this  ridiculous  fable  gravely  men- 
tioned even  as  a  report,  by  so  judicious  a  naturalist  as  Mr.  Kirby. — H.  D. 


252  xMIGRATION    OF    FISHES 

from  the  preceding  one  ;  next  come  the  old,  and  after  them 
the  young  males,  in  the  same  order. 

'  The  noise  they  make  in  their  transit,  heard  from  a  dis- 
tance, sounds  like  a  far-off  storm.  In  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
and  in  tempests,  they  keep  near  the  bottom ;  at  other  times^ 
they  swim  a  little  below  the  surface.  In  fair  weather  they 
move  slowly,  sporting  as  they  go,  at  the  surface,  and  wander- 
ing again  and  again  from  their  direct  route  ;  but,  when 
alarmed,  they  dart  forward  with  such  rapidity  that  the  eye 
can  scarcely  follow  them.  They  employ  only  three  months 
in  ascending  to  the  sources  of  the  Maragnon,  the  current  of 
which  is  remarkably  rapid, — which  is  at  the  rate  of  nearly 
forty  miles  a-day  ;  in  a  smooth  stream,  or  lake,  their  progress 
would  increase  in  a  fourfold  ratio.  Their  tail  is  a  very  pow- 
erful organ,  and  its  muscles  have  wonderful  energy  ;  by 
placing  it  in  their  mouth,  they  make  of  it  a  very  elastic 
spring ;  for,  letting  it  go  with  violence,  they  raise  themselves 
in  the  air  to  the  height  of  from  twelve  to  fifteen  feet,  and  so 
clear  the  cataract  which  impedes  their  course  ;  if  they  fail  in 
their  first  attempt,  they  continue  their  efforts  till  they  have 
accomplished  it.*  The  female  is  said  to  hollow  out  a  long 
and  deep  excavation  in  the  gravelly  bed  of  the  river,  to  receive 
her  spawn,  and,  when  deposited  to  cover  it  up ;  but  this 
admits  of  some  doubt. 

'  Among  the  migrations  of  fishes,'  continues  Mr.  Kirby, 
proceeding  to  notice  the  instincts  of  other  tribes,  'I  must  not 
neglect  those  which  take  place  in  consequence  of  the  water 
in  the  ponds  or  pools  that  they  inhabit  being  dried  up.  Some 
of  these  are  very  extraordinary,  and  prove,  that  when  the 
Creator  gave  being  to  these  animals,  he  foresaw  the  circum- 
stances in  which  they  would  be  placed,  and  mercifully  pro- 
vided them  with  the  means  of  escape  from  dangers  to  which 
they  would  be  necessarily  exposed. 

*  If  it  be  true  that  the  salmon  which  frequents  the  waters  of  the  Marag- 
non can  clear  a  cataract  of  fifteen  feet  in  height,  in  the  manner  stated  by 
Mr.  Kirby,  it  must  be  a  much  more  powerful  and  acth'e  fish  than  the 
species  found  in  the  British  rivers. — H,  D. 


FROM   THE    SEA    INTO   RIVERS.  253 

*In  very  dry  summers,  the  fishes  that  inhabit  the  above 
situations  are  reduced  often  to  the  last  extremities,  and  endea- 
vour to  relieve  themselves  by  plunging,  first  their  heads,  and 
afterwards  their  whole  bodies,  in  the  mud,  to  a  considerable 
depth.        *  *  #  #  '*  #         * 

'  But  others,  when  reduced  to  this  extremity,  desert  their 
native  pool,  and  travel  in  search  of  another  that  is  better  sup- 
plied with  water.  This  has  long  been  known  of  eels,  which 
wind,  by  night,  through  the  grass,  in  search  of  water,  when 
so  circumstanced.  Dr.  Hancock,  in  the  Zoological  Journal, 
gives  an  account  of  a  species  of  fish,  called,  by  the  Indians, 
the  flat-head  hassar,  and,  belonging  to  a  genus*  of  the 
family  of  the  Siluridans,  which  is  instructed  by  its  Creator, 
when  the  pools  in  which  they  commonly  reside,  in  very  dry 
seasons,  lose  their  water,  to  take  the  resolution  of  marching 
by  land,  in  search  of  others  in  which  the  water  is  not  evapo- 
rated. These  fish,  which  grow  to  the  length  of  a  foot, 
travel  in  large  droves  with  this  view ;  they  move  by  night, 
and  their  motion  is  said  to  be  like  that  of  the  two-footed  liz- 
ard.f  A  strong  serrated  arm  constitutes  the  first  ray  of  its 
pectoral  fin.  Using  this  as  a  kind  of  foot,  it  should  seem,  they 
push  themselves  forward,  by  means  of  their  elastic  tail,  moving 
nearly  as  fast  as  a  man  will  leisurely  walk.  The  strong 
plates  which  envelope  their  body,  probably  facilitate  their 
progress,  in  the  same  manner  as  those  under  the  body  of 
serpents,  which  in  some  degree,  perform  the  office  of  feet. 
It  is  affirmed  by  the  Indians,  that  they  are  furnished  with  an 
internal  supply  of  water,  sufficient  for  their  journey. 'J 

Mr.  Kirby  mentions  some  other  tribes  of  migrating  fishes ; 
and,  among  these,  one  found  in  Tranquebar,  by  DaldorfF, 
which  not  only  creeps  upon  the  shore,  but  even  climbs  the 
fan-palm,  in  pursuit  of  certain  crustaceans  which  form  its 
food.  Its  structure  is  admirably  adapted  to  this  extraordinary 
instinct.  The  lobes  of  its  gill-covers  are  so  divided  and 
armed,  as  to  be  employed  together  or  separately,  as  hands, 
*  Doras.  t  Bipes. 

X  Kirby 's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  vol.  i.  pp.  116-133. 

VOL.  IV.  22 


254  MIGRATION    OF    EELS. 

for  the  suspension  of  the  animal,  till,  by  unsheathing  its  dorsal 
and  anal  fins, — which  at  other  times  it  folds  up  into  the  cavity 
of  its  body, — and,  fixing  them  in  the  bark,  it  prepares  to  take 
another  step. 

How  curious  are  these  contrivances,  and  how  varied  the 
resources  of  the  Author  of  Nature !  The  instances  now  men- 
tioned, however,  are  in  reality,  no  more  worthy  of  attentio 
than  the  instincts  of  those  animals  with  which  we  are  most 
familiar.  We  are  only  more  surprised  and  impressed  with 
them  on  account  of  their  peculiarity.  The  hand  of  a  won- 
der-working God  is  everywhere. 


NINTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

MIGRATION    OF    EELS. 

The  following  observations  of  Sir  Humphrey  Davy,  in  his 
'  Salmonia,'  on  the  migration  of  eels,  are  too  curious  to  be 
omitted  : — 

'  There  are  two  migrations  of  eels,  one  from^  and  the  other 
to^  the  sea  :  the  first  in  spring  and  summer ;  the  second  in 
autumn,  or  early  in  winter: — the  first,  of  very  small  eels, 
which  are  sometimes  not  more  than  two,  or  two  and  a  half 
inches  long  ;  the  second,  of  large  eels,  which  sometimes  are 
three  or  four  feet  long,  and  weigh  from  ten  to  fifteen,  or  even 
twenty  pounds.  There  is  great  reason  to  believe,  that  all 
eels  found  in  fresh  water  are  the  results  of  the  first  migration.* 

*  Mr.  Mudie,  in  his  volume  on  the  '  Sea,'  observes,  that  the  brackish 
water  at  the  mouth  of  rivers  is  warmer,  by  two  or  three  degrees,  than 
the  water  either  in  the  sea  itself,  or  in  the  river, — a  circumstance  which 
he  accounts  for,  by  the  chemical  action  of  the  saline  substances  in  the  sea 
on  the  fresh  water.  He  supposes  that  eels,  and  other  kinds  of  fish, 
resort  to  estuaries,  on  account  of  the  warmth ;  and  he  adds,  that,  '  in  the 
case  of  the  eel,  this  heat  brings  forward  the  spawn  till  it  is  ready  to  be 
deposited  in  the  manner  in  which  it  is  done  by  the  generality  of  oviparous 
fishes :'  and  he  considers  this  to  be  proved  by  the  fact,  '  that  the  young 
eels  are,  observed  ascending  the  rivers  in  great  numbers,  during  the  fol- 


MIGRATION   OF   EELS.  256 

They  appear  in  millions  in  April  and  May,  and  sometimes 
continue  to  rise  as  late  even  as  July  and  the  beginning  of 
August.  I  remember  this  was  the  case  in  Ireland,  in  1823.  It 
had  been  a  cold  backward  summer ;  and,  when  I  was  at 
Ballyshannon,  about  the  end  of  July,  the  mouth  of  the  river, 
which  had  been  in  flood  all  this  month,  under  the  fall,  was 
blackened  by  millions  of  little  eels,  about  as  long  as  the 
finger,  w^hich  were  constantly  urging  their  way  up  the  moist 
rocks,  by  the  side  of  the  fall.  Thousands  died  ;  but  their 
bodies  remaining  moist,  served  as  a  ladder  for  others  to  make 
their  way ;  and  I  saw  them  ascending  even  perpendicular 
stones,  making  their  road  through  wet  moss,  or  adhering  to 
some  eels  that  had  died  in  the  attempt.  Such  is  the  energy  of 
these  little  animals,  that  they  continue  to  find  their  way  in 
immense  numbers  to  Loch  Erne,  The  same  thing  happened 
at  the  Fall  of  Bann,  and  Loch  Neagh  is  thus  peopled  with 
them.  Even  the  mighty  Fall  of  Schaffhausen  does  not  pre- 
vent them  from  making  their  way  to  the  Lake  of  Constance, 
where  I  have  seen  many  very  large  eels. 

'  There  are  eels  in  the  Lake  of  Neufchatel,  which  commu- 
nicates by  a  stream  with  the  Rhine  ;  but  there  are  none  on 
the  Lemon  Lake,  because  the  Rhone  makes  a  subterraneous 
fall  below  Geneva  ;  and  though  small  eels  can  pass  by  moss, 
or  mount  rocks,  they  cannot  penetrate  limestone,  or  move 
against  a  rapid  descending  current  of  water,  passing,  as  it 
were,  through  a  pipe.  Again,  no  eels  mount  the  Danube 
from  the  Black  Sea  ;  and  there  are  none  found  in  the  great 
extent  of  lakes,  swamps,  and  rivers,  communicating  with  the 
Danube,  though  some  of  these  lakes  and  morasses  are  won- 
derfully fitted  for  them  ;  and,  though  they  are  found  abun- 
dantly in  the  same  countries,  in  lakes  and  rivers  connected 
with  the  ocean  and  the  Mediterranean,  yet,  when  brought 
into  confined  water  in  the  Danube,  they  fatten  and  thrive 
there. 

'  As  to  the  instinct  which  leads  young  eels  to  seek  fresh 

lowmg  season,  while  no  young  eel  is,  at  the  same  time,  found  either  de- 
scending the  stream,  or  crossing  the  river.' — Mudie's  Sea,  p.  68. 


256  MIGRATION    OP   EELS. 

water,  it  is  difficult  to  reason  ;  probably  they  prefer  warmth, 
and,  swimming  at  the  surface  in  the  early  summer,  find  the 
lighter  water  warmer,  and  likewise  containing  more  insects, 
and  so  pursue  the  courses  of  fresh  water,  as  the  waters  from 
the  land,  at  this  season,  become  warmer  than  those  of  the  sea. 
Mr.  Couch  says  (Lin.  Trans.,  part  xiv.  p.  70),  that  the  little 
eels,  according  to  his  observation,  are  produced  within  reach 
of  the  tide,  and  climb  round  falls  to  reach  fresh  water  from  the 
sea.  I  have  sometimes  seen  them,  in  spring,  swimming  in  im- 
mense shoals  in  the  Atlantic,  in  Mount  Bay,  making  their  way 
to  the  mouths  of  small  brooks  and  rivers.  When  the  cold 
water  from  the  autumnal  floods  begins  to  swell  the  rivers,  this 
fish  tries  to  return  to  the  sea  ;  but  numbers  of  the  smaller  ones 
hide  themselves  during  the  winter  in  the  mud,  and  many  of 
them  form,  as  it  were,  masses  together. 

'  Various  authors  have  recorded  the  migration  of  eels  in  a 
singular  way,  such  as  Dr.  Plot,  who,  in  his  History  of 
Staffordshire,  says  that  they  pass  in  the  night,  across  mea- 
dows from  one  pond  to  another  ;*  and  Mr.  Anderson  (Trans. 
Royal  Soc.)  gives  a  distinct  account  of  small  eels  rising  up 
the  flood-gates  and  posts  of  the  waterworks  of  the  city  of 
Norwich ;  and  they  made  their  way  to  the  water  above, 
though  the  boards  were  smooth  planed,  and  five  or  six  feet 
perpendicular.  He  says,  when  they  first  rose  out  of  the 
water  upon  the  dry  board,  they  rested  a  little,  which  seemed 
to  be  till  their  slime  was  thrown  out,  and  sufficiently  glutin- 
ous, and  then  they  rose  up  the  perpendicular  ascent  as  if  they 
had  been  moving  on  a  plain  surface.  There  can,  I  think, 
be  no  doubt,  that  they  are  assisted  by  their  small  scales, 
which,  placed   like   those  of  serpents,  must  facilitate  their 

*  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  eels  occasionally  leave  the  water  for  the 
land.  Mr.  Jesse,  who  is  an  accurate  inquirer,  says,  *  Eels  certainly  come 
upon  grass  lands,  to  feed  at  night  upon  worms  and  snails.  In  the  mea- 
dows at  Barford,  in  Warwickshire,  they  had  been  cut  in  two  by  the 
mowers  ;  and  an  old  keeper  there  assured  a  friend  of  mine,  that  he  had 
frequently  intercepted  them,  on  their  way  back  to  the  river,  early  in  the 
morning.  Their  movements  on  land  were  very  quick.' — Jesse^s  Glean- 
ings^ 3d  series,  p.  68. 


MIGRATION   OF   EELS. 


257 


progressive  motion.      These  motions  have   been  microsco- 
pically observed  by  Leuwenhoek  (Phil.  Trans,  vol.  iv.). 

'  Eels  migrate  from  the  salt  water,  of  different  sizes  ;  but 
I  believe  never,  when  they  are  above  a  foot  long,  and  the 
great  mass  of  them  are  only  from  two  and  a  half  to  four 
inches.  They  feed,  grow,  and  f«tten,  in  fresh  water.  In 
small  rivers  they  are  seldom  very  large  ;  but  in  large  deep 
lakes  they  become  as  thick  as  a  man's  arm,  or  even  leg;  and 
all  those  of  a  considerable  size  attempt  to  return  to  the  sea  in 
October  or  November.  Those  that  are  not  of  the  largest 
size,  pass  the  winter  in  the  deepest  parts  of  the  mud  of  rivers 
and  lakes,  and  do  not  seem  to  eat  much,  and  remain,  I 
believe,  almost  torpid.  Their  increase  is  certainly  not  known 
in  any  given  time,  but  must  depend  on  the  quantity  of  their 
food  ;  but  it  is  probable  that  they  do  not  become  of  the 
largest  size,  from  the  smallest,  in  one  or  even  two  seasons. 
As  very  large  eels,  after  having  migrated,  never  return  to 
the  river  again,  they  must  (for  it  cannot  be  supposed  that 
they  all  die  immediately  in  the  sea)  remain  in  salt  water; 
and  there  is  great  probability  that  they  are  then  confounded 
with  the  conger,  which  is  found  of  different  colours  and  sizes, 
from  the  smallest  to  the  largest,  from  a  few  ounces  to  one 
hundred  pounds  weight' 

I  shall  conclude  this  paper  with  some  observations  of 
Mr.  Jesse,  on  the  hybernation  of  eels.  '  That  eels  hybernate 
during  the  cold  months,  there  can,  I  think,  be  little  doubt, 
few  or  none  being  caught  at  that  time.  I  have  endeavoured 
also,  but  without  success,  to  procure  eels  in  the  winter,  from 
those  places  in  the  river  Thames  where,  I  have  every  rea- 
son to  believe,  they  go  to  spawn.  I  read  an  account  which, 
if  correct,  would  serve  to  prove  what  I  have  now  stated.  A 
boy  at  Arthurstown,  in  the  county  of  Wexford,  perceived 
something  of  a  very  unusual  appearance,  floundering  upon 
the  sand  at  low  water.  Upon  a  nearer  approach,  he  found 
it  to  be  a  quart  bottle,  which  showed  many  symptoms  of 
animation.  He  seized  it,  and  brought  it  in.  It  was  found 
to  contain  an  eel  so  much  thicker  than  the  neck  of  the  bottle 
22* 


258  new-year's  day, 

that  it  must  be  supposed  the  eel  made  its  lodgement  there, 
when  it  was  younger,  and  of  course  smaller.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  break  the  bottle,  for  the  purpose  of  liberating  the  fish. 
'  If  this  account  be  true,  it  goes  to  prove,  in  a  curious 
way,  as  far  as  one  instance  can  do  so,  the  propensity  which 
eels  have  to  hybernate  during  the  cold  months.  It  also 
seems  to  prove  that  they  do  this  in  the  tide-way  if  they  can, 
and  that  they  neither  feed  nor  deposit  their  spawn  till  the 
season  of  hybernation  is  over.  It  is  indeed  a  general  opinion 
among  old  fishermen  that  eels  cannot  bear  cold.'* 


NINTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

new-year's  day. 

It  is  said  to  be  the  custom,  in  some  nations,  to  mourn  at 
the  birth  of  a  child,  because  of  the  anticipated  evils  which  it 
is  destined  to  endure  in  this  vale  of  tears.  This  is,  doubtless, 
to  form  a  false  estimate  of  human  life,  in  which,  on  the 
average,  pleasure  far  predominates  over  pain  ;  and  surely  the 
contrary  custom  of  rejoicing  when  another  rational  and  im- 
mortal creature  is  brought  into  existence,  is  much  more 
justifiable.  But  I  am  not  certain  that  the  same  principle 
will  apply  to  the  birth  of  a  new  year.  There  are  so  many 
recollections  of  past  delinquencies  and  omissions,  and  of 
losses  that  can  never  be  repaired,  to  unite  with  anticipations 
of  the  future — so  much  to  regret  as  well  as  to  fear, — that 
the  thoughtless  levity  with  which  this  first  day  o  another 
annual  cycle  is  generally  ushered  in,  seems  to  be  altogether 
misplaced.  We  should  certainly  do,  what  is  at  once  more 
reasonable  and  more  edifying,  were  we  to  spend  the  first 
hours  of  a  new  year  in  solemn  meditation,  both  on  the  year 
which  has  fleeted  away,  and  on  that  which  has  just  com- 
menced. 

But,  in  such  an  exercise,  while  there  is  cause  of  self- 
♦  Jesse's  Gleanings,  3d  series,  pp.  69,  70. 


NEW- year's  day.  259 

accusation  and  of  sorrow,  there  is  also  ground  for  gratitude, 
for  hope,  and  for  enjoyment.  The  protecting  care  of  an 
over-ruling  Providence,  is  a  fruitful  source  of  these  feelings, 
whether  we  regard  external  Nature,  or  reflect  on  our  own 
individual  experience  of  the  guidance  and  protection  of  a 
Father's  unseen  hand. 

When  Nature  lies  clothed  in  the  cold  and  cheerless 
mantle  of  winter,  all  seems  dreary,  and  desolate,  and  hope- 
less. She  is,  however,  only  in  a  state  of  repose.  Rest  was 
necessary  to  recruit  her  exhausted  strength.  But  during 
her  repose,  the  Hand  of  Him  who  '  slumbereth  not,'  has 
been  working  in  secret.  The  germs  of  future  plants  and 
flowers  have  been  wonderfully  preserved  :  insects,  reptiles, 
birds,  and  beasts,  have  all  partaken  of  a  Father's  care  ;  and 
his  rational  creatures  have  been  enabled,  by  employing 
the  higher  powers  with  which  He  has  gifted  them,  to  pro- 
vide for  the  supply  of  their  more  numerous  necessities  and 
comforts. 

And  now  a  new  scene  appears.  The  sun  has  changed 
his  course,  and  begins  again  to  take  a  wider  course  in  the 
heavens.  Soon  his  warmth,  and  glory,  and  genial  influence 
will  return.  Nature  will  burst  anew  into  life,  and  beauty, 
and  joy.  The  husbandman  will  once  more  ply  his  labours, 
while  hope  cheers  his  toil ;  and,  all  around,  the  cattle  will 
crop  the  tender  herbage  as  it  rises,  and  the  bleatiag  lambs 
play  amidst  the  flocks  scattered  over  the  neighbouring  hill ; 
while 

The  lark,  high  poised, 
Makes  heaven's  blue  concave  vocal  with  his  lay. 

As  the  year  advances,  summer  will  again  smile,  and  will 
cast  from  her  green  lap  a  profusion  of  flowers ;  and,  when 
she  has  fulfilled  her  course,  autumn  will  return  crowned 
with  plenty.  Last  of  all,  amidst  a  thousand  varied  and  most 
bountiful  preparations  for  the  sustenance  of  animal  and  vege- 
table life,  during  the  rigours  of  an  ungenial  sky,  winter 
will  arrive,  and  once  more  prepare  the  earth,  by  a  night  of 
rest,  for  the  labours  of  the  coming  year. 


260 

These  wonders  of  Divine  providence  need  only  be  men- 
tioned, to  show  with  what  consummate  skill  and  goodness 
God  accommodates  the  seasons  to  the  comfort,  the  convenience, 
and  the  happiness  of  every  thing  that  lives,  and  especially  of 
the  human  family.  While  the  labour  to  which  man  is 
doomed  strengthens  his  bodily  powers,  and  rouses,  exercises, 
and  sharpens  his  mental  faculties,  the  changes,  which  are 
continually  taking  place,  are  highly  conducive  to  his  im- 
provement and  happiness.  Sameness  deadens  curiosity,  and 
satiates  enjoyment.  We  are  so  constituted,  as  to  require 
constant  vicissitudes  for  stimulating  the  mind,  and  giving 
relish  to  our  exercises  ;  and  in  each  season  of  the  year  we 
find  employments  suitable  to  our  faculties,  and  calculated  to 
afford  them  agreeable  and  useful  occupation.  Even  in  win- 
ter, cold  and  comfortless  as  it  appears,  how  much  do  we  find 
to  make  us  both  happier  and  better.  The  family  circle,  col- 
lected in  the  long  evenings  round  the  cheerful  winter  fire, 
feel  those  affections  warmed  which  soften  the  heart  without 
enfeebling  it,  and  those  domestic  endearments  increased  by 
exercise,  without  which  life  is  scarcely  desirable ;  while  the 
soul,  enlightened  and  enlarged,  is  better  prepared  to  receive 
impressions  of  religion, — to  love  Him  who  first  loved  us, — 
and  rising  to  more  exalted  views,  to  aspire  after  the  society 
of  the  just  made  perfect,  in  the  world  of  spirits. 

The  paternal  care  of  the  Supreme  Being,  thus  strongly 
impressed  on  the  mind  by  contemplating  the  traces  of  his 
beneficence,  every  where  conspicuous  in  the  seasons  as  they 
revolve,  is  calculated  to  re-assure  the  mind,  in  looking  for- 
ward to  that  great  change,  of  the  approach  of  which  we  are 
forcibly  reminded,  by  the  passing  away  of  another  year  of 
the  short  and  uncertain  period  allotted  us  on  earth.  We, 
too,  have  our  spring,  our  summer,  our  autumn,  and  our  win- 
ter. Will  another  spring  dawn  on  the  winter  of  the  grave? 
To  the  encouraging  answer  which  Revelation  gives  to  this 
important  question,  is  added  our  experience  of  the  operations 
of  the  God  of  the  Seasons.  Under  his  administration,  noth- 
ing perishes,  though  every  thing  changes.     The  flowers  die 


NEW-YEARS    DAY.  261 

but  to  live  again.  In  the  animal  world,  many  species  sleep 
out  the  winter,  to  awake  again  in  a  new  season.  Nature 
itself  expires  and  revives  ;  even  while  she  lies  prostrate  and 
rigid,  an  Almighty  hand  preserves  the  germs  of  future  life, 
that  she  may  once  more  start  from  the  grave,  and  run  a  new 
round  of  beauty,  animation,  and  enjoyment.  Is  there  not 
hope,  then,  for  the  human  soul  ?  Shall  not  the  same  paternal 
goodness  watch  over  it  in  its  seeming  extinction,  and  cause 
it  to  survive  the  winter  of  death  ?  Yes,  there  is  hope  here, 
but  there  is  no  assurance.  It  is  from  the  word  of  inspiration 
alone  that  the  assurance  of  immortality  springs.  That  book 
of  unerring  truth  informs  us,  that  after  our  mortal  winter, 
there  comes  a  spring  of  unfading  beauty  and  eternal  joy, 
where  no  cold  chills,  and  no  heat  scorches ;  where  there  is 
bloom  without  decay,  and  a  sky  without  a  cloud. 

But  let  it  never  be  forgotten,  that  the  prospect  which  lies 
before  us  is  not  all  bright  and  smiling.  The  same  book  of 
truth  which  reveals  to  us  our  immortal  nature,  informs  us 
also,  that,  in  the  unseen  world  to  which  we  are  travelling, 
there  is  a  state  of  misery  as  well  as  a  state  of  blessedness  ; — 
that  we  are  now,  step  by  step,  approaching  the  one  or  the 
other  of  these  states ; — and  that  each  successive  year,  as  it 
passes  over  our  heads,  instead  of  leading  us  upward  to  the 
unchanging  glories  which  belong  to  the  children  of  God, 
may  be  only  conducting  us  downward,  on  that  road  which 
*■  leadeth  to  destruction.' 

This  is  inexpressibly  dreadful !  And  when  we  think  of 
our  own  character  and  qualifications,  we  shall  find  nothing 
calculated  to  allay  our  terrors.  We  are  the  children  of  a 
fallen  parent, — ourselves  fallen  and  guilty.  If,  from  the  ele- 
vated spot  on  which  we  now  stand,  at  the  commencement  of 
a  new  stage  of  our  journey,  we  look  back  on  the  scenes 
through  which  we  have  passed,  and  reflect  on  the  transac- 
tions in  which  we  have  been  engaged,  what  shall  we  dis- 
cover  that  can  recommend  us  to  Him  '  who  is  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  inquity  V  If,  again,  we  Jook  forward,  what 
a  scene  of  turmoil  and  disorder,  temptation  and  danger,  do 


262  new-year's  day. 

we  descry  in  a  world  lying  in  wickedness  ?  When  we  think 
of  the  weakness  of  our  own  hearts,  and  of  the  enemies  we 
have  to  encounter — so  numerous  and  so  formidable — we 
cannot  fail  to  be  appalled,  and  to  experience  the  same  kind 
of  misgiving  which  led  an  apostle  to  exclaim,  '  Who  is  suffi- 
cient for  these  things!' 

But  when,  in  the  exercise  of  faith,  we  turn  to  the  Gospel, 
a  more  blessed  view  opens  to  us ;  for  it  is  full  of  the  most 
encouraging  promises  to  those  who  will  accept  of  them.  It 
tells  us  of  '  the  Lord  God  merciful  and  gracious,  long  suffer- 
ing and  slow  to  anger,  abundant  in  loving  kindness  and 
tender  mercy  ;'  and,  in  proof  of  this  character,  it  reminds  us 
of  the  impartial  manner  in  which  the  Creator  employs  inani- 
mate nature  for  the  good  of  His  creatures,  '  making  His  sun 
to  rise  on  the  evil  and  the  good,  and  sending  rain  on  the 
just  and  the  unjust ;'  it  reminds  us,  also,  of  the  parental 
affection  with  which  His  own  exuberant  bounty  has  in- 
spired the  animal  creation  ;  and,  taking  an  example  from 
the  inferior  tribes,  it  beautifully  declares,  that  '  as  an  eagle 
strrreth  up  her  nest,  fluttereth  over  her  young,  spreadeth 
abroad  her  wings,  taketh  them,  beareth  them  on  her  wings,' 
so  He  watches  over  His  rational  offspring,  delighting  to  lead, 
instruct,  and  bless  them  :  Rising  still  higher,  it  reminds  us 
of  the  tenderness  He  has  infused  into  the  mind  of  earthly 
parents,  and  says,  '  If  you  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good 
gifts  to  your  children,  how  much  more  shall  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  give  good  things  to  those  who  ask  him.' 
Nay,  it  represents  the  Eternal  as  condescending  to  compare 
his  regard  for  his  people,  with  that  of  a  fond  mother  for  the 
infant  smiling  upon  her  knee,  'Can  a  mother  forget  her 
sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the 
son  of  her  womb  1  yea,  she  may  forget ;  yet  will  not  I  forget 
thee.'  It  does  much  more  ;  it  opens  to  us  the  wonders  of 
redeeming  love,  presenting  to  our  view  the  Son  of  the  Eter- 
nal humbling  Himself  for  our  sakes,  to  assume  the  form  of  a 
servant, — becoming  a  man  of  sorrows, — submitting  to  igno- 
miny, torture,  and  death  ;  and  then  it  crowns  all,  by  making 


MIGRATION    OF    THE    LAND-CRAB.  263 

this  unanswerable  appeal,  '  If  God  spared  not  his  own  Son. 
but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all.  how  shall  he  not,  with  him, 
also  freely  give  us  all  things  !' 

Such  IS  the  unspeakable  encouragement  which  the  Chris- 
tian derives  from  the  Gospel  of  his  Divine  Master.  And 
shall  we  not  •  work  out  our  own  salvation,  seeing  it  is  God 
who  worketh  in  us  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  plea- 
sure V  In  this  mighty  task,  we  cannot  indeed  avoid  being 
affected  with  '  fear  and  trembling,'  when  we  reflect  on  what  we 
have  at  stake  ;  but  we  have  also  every  thing  to  hope,  for  He 
who  is  for  us,  is  greater  than  all  that  can  be  against  us  ;  and 
the  value  of  the  prize  which  is  set  before  us  is  inestimable. 


NINTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

MIGRATION    OF    THE    LAND-CRAB. 

As  I  do  not  intend  to  resume,  in  any  other  part  of  this 
work  the  subject  of  migration,  I  shall  now  notice  one  other 
migratory  animal,  which  deserts  its  usual  haunts  for  the  pur- 
pose of  finding  an  appropriate  spot  for  depositing  its  eggs, 
and  whose  instinct,  in  this  respect,  is  peculiarly  remarkable. 
I  allude  to  the  land-crab.  It  is  noticed  by  Kirby,  but  I  shall 
chiefly  follow  the  account  given  in  '  Goldsmith's  Animated 
Nature,'  which  contains  most  of  the  particulars  known  of  this 
extraordinary  little  animal,  and  from  which  the  description 
of  it,  both  in  the  work  already  mentioned,  and  in  the  Edin- 
burgh Encyclopasdia,  seems  to  be  principally  drawn. 

The  crab  is  of  the  same  kind  with  the  lobster,  which  in 
many  particulars  it  resembles.  The  residence  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  species  is  in  the  waters  ;  but  that  which  I  am  now 
about  to  present  to  my  readers,  is  entirely  an  inhabitant  of 
the  land,  being  found  chiefly  among  the  mountainous  ranges 
of  the  Caribbee  Islands ;  and  although  it  has  gills  like  a 
fish,  it  speedily  perishes  when  submerged.  There  is  one 
occasion,  however,  and  only  one,  when  it  seeks  the  sea- 


264  MIGRATION    OP   THE    LAND-CRAB. 

coast,  and  seems  to  prove,  not  only  by  its  form,  but  by  its 
habits,  its  affinity  to  its  congeners  of  the  ocean :  and  that  is, 
when  it  is  about  to  reproduce  its  species.  It  would  seem 
that  the  eggs  of  this  creature,  which  bear  a  remarkable  re- 
semblance to  the  spawn  of  fish,  require  to  be  hatched  in  the 
sea.  The  crab  is  warned  of  this  by  its  instinct ;  and,  though 
its  usual  residence  is  in  mountainous  districts,  at  a  consider- 
able distance  from  the  shore,  where  it  lives  on  roots  and 
vegetables,  and  where  its  habits  are  exceedingly  retired,  it 
undertakes  a  tedious  and  perilous  journey,  in  obedience  to 
the  first  law  of  its  nature.  The  form  of  this  animal  is 
little  fitted  for  travelling.  It  is  thus  graphically  described 
by  Goldsmith: — 'The  violet-crab  somewhat  resembles  two 
hands,  cut  through  the  middle,  and  joined  together  ;  for  each 
side  looks  like  four  fingers,  and  the  two  nippers  or  claws 
resemble  the  thumbs.  All  the  rest  of  the  body  is  covered 
with  a  shell  as  large  as  a  man's  hand,  and  bunched  in  the 
middle,  on  the  fore-part  of  which  there  are  two  long  eyes,  of 
the  size  of  a  grain  of  barley,  as  transparent  as  crystal,  and  as 
hard  as  horn.  A  little  below  these,  is  the  mouth,  covered 
with  a  sort  of  barbs,  under  which  there  are  two  broad  sharp 
teeth,  as  white  as  snow.  They  are  not  placed,  as  in  other 
animals,  cross-ways,  but  in  an  opposite  direction,  not  much 
unlike  the  blades  of  a  pair  of  scissors.  With  these  teeth 
they  can  easily  cut  leaves,  fruits,  and  rotten  wood,  which  is 
their  usual  food.  But  their  principal  instrument  for  cutting 
and  seizing  their  food,  is  their  nippers,  which  catch  such  a 
hold,  that  the  animal  loses  the  limb  sooner  than  its  grasp,  and 
is  often  seen  scampering  off,  having  left  its  claw  still  holding 
fast  upon  its  enemy. 

Such  is  the  creature  whose  extraordinary  instinct  we  are 
about  to  describe.  Among  the  mountains  they  live  in  a  kind 
of  orderly  community,  usually  burrowing  in  the  earth,  in  the 
midst  of  inaccessible  retreats.  They  choose  the  month  of 
April  or  May  to  begin  their  expedition,  and  then  sally  out 
by  thousands  from  the  stumps  of  hollow  trees,  from  the  clefts 
of  the  rocks,  and  from  the  holes  which  they  dig  for  them- 


MIGRATION    OF   THE   LAND-CRAB.  265 

selves  under  the  surface  of  the  ground.  The  procession  sets 
forward  with  the  regularity  of  a  well-disciplined  army. 
They  are  commonly  divided  into  three  battalions,  of  which 
the  first  consists  of  the  strongest  and  boldest  males,  that,  like 
pioneers,  march  forward  to  clear  the  route,  and  face  the  great- 
est dangers.  The  main  body  of  the  army  is  composed  of  fe- 
males, which  never  leave  the  mountains  till  the  rain  is  set  in 
for  some  time  and  these  descend  in  regular  array,  being 
formed  into  columns  sometimes  of  fifty  paces  broad,  and  three 
miles  deep,  and  so  close  that  there  is  no  setting  down  one's 
foot,  without  treading  on  some  of  them.  Three  or  four  days 
after  this,  the  rear-guard  follows,  a  straggling  undisciplined 
tribe,  consisting  of  males  and  females,  neither  so  robust  nor 
so  numerous  as  the  former.  The  sea  being  the  place  of 
their  destination,  to  that  they  direct  their  march,  with  right- 
lined  precision,  turning  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left, 
except  compelled  by  absolute  necessity,  and  attempting  even 
to  scale  the  walls  of  houses  which  may  be  in  their  way,  ra- 
ther than  be  diverted  from  their  direct  course.  '  At  this  sea- 
son,' says  Mr.  Barclay,  speaking  of  what  happens  in  Jamaica, 
in  a  paper  published  in  the  New  Edinburgh  Philosophical 
Journal, '  it  is  impossible  to  keep  them  out  of  the  houses,  or 
even  out  of  the  bed-rooms,  where  at  one  time  scratching  with 
their  large  claws,  and  at  another  rattling  across  the  floor? 
they  make  a  noise  that  would  not  a  little  astonish  and  alarm 
a  stranger.'  The  night  is  their  chief  time  of  proceeding ; 
but,  if  it  rains  by  day,  they  do  not  fail  to  profit  by  the  occa- 
sion, continuing  to  move  forward  in  their  slow  uniform  man- 
ner. When  the  sun  shines,  and  is  hot  on  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  they  make  a  universal  halt,  and  wait  till  the  cool  of 
the  evening.  When  terrified,  they  move  back  in  a  confused 
disorderly  manner,  holding  up  their  nippers  as  a  weapon  of 
offence,  and  clattering  them  together,  as  if  to  threaten  with 
vengeance  those  who  disturb  them.  It  is  remarkable,  that 
if  any  of  them  get  maimed  on  their  joujney,  and  unable  to 
proceed,  instead  of  leaving  them  to  fall  a  prey  to  their  ene- 
mies, their  companions  fall  upon  them,  and  tear  them  to 
VOL.  IV.  23 


266  MIGRATION    OF    THE    LA.ND-CRAB. 

pieces ;  and,  although    not  naturally   carnivorous   animals, 
they  are  said  to  devour  them  on  the  spot. 

After  escaping  a  thousand  Gangers  in  the  course  of  a 
march,  which  sometimes  occupies  three  months,  they  at  last 
arrive  at  the  shore,  and  prepare  to  cast  their  spawn.  The 
eggs  are  still  within  their  bodies,  not  being  as  yet  excluded, 
as  is  usual  in  animals  of  this  kind,  into  a  receptacle  under 
their  tail.  But  no  sooner  does  the  crab  reach  the  shore  than 
it  eagerly  goes  to  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  lets  the  waves 
wash  over  its  body  two  or  three  times.  This  seems  to  be  a 
necessary  preparation  for  bringing  the  spawn  to  maturity ; 
and,  without  farther  delay,  it  withdraws  to  seek  a  lodging  on 
land.  The  spaAvn  now  grows  rapidly  larger,  is  excluded 
from  the  body,  and  sticks  to  the  barbs  under  the  flaps  of  the 
tail.  This  bunch  is  seen  as  big  as  a  hen's  egg,  and  exactly 
resembling  the  roes  of  herrings.  In  this  state,  the  crabs  once 
more  seek  the  shore  ;  and  shaking  off  the  spawn  into  the  wa- 
ter, leave  it  to  be  hatched  by  the  united  influence  of  the  sea 
and  a  tropical  sun,  and  immediately  begin  their  retreat  to  the 
mountains,  which,  however,  their  exhausted  state  often  pre 
vents  them  from  ever  again  being  able  to  reach,  especially 
as  they  are  said  to  moult  or  cast  their  shells  by  the  way.  It 
has  been  stated  that  whole  shoals  of  hungry  fish  are,  at  this 
time,  watching  the  shore,  in  expectation  of  the  annual  supply 
which  Providence  has  thus  provided  for  them.  However 
this  may  be,  millions  escape  the  rapacity  of  these  enemies ; 
and,  soon  after,  an  immense  tribe  of  little  crabs  is  seen  quit- 
ting the  shore,  and  slowly  travelling  up  to  the  mountains. 
Mr.  Barclay  in  the  paper  already  alluded  to,  gives  a  striking 
description  of  a  migration  of  these  singular  animals,  which 
he  himself  witnessed  in  Jamaica,  but  which  he  seems  to  con- 
sider as  altogether  unusual  in  that  island,  at  least  to  the  ex- 
tent which  he  details.  '  On  descending  Gluahill,'  says  this 
gentleman,  '  from  the  vale  of  Plaintain-garden  River,  the 
road  appeared  of  a  reddish  colour,  as  if  strewed  with  brick- 
dust.  I  dismounted  from  my  horse  to  examine  the  cause  of 
80  unusual  an  appearance,  and  was  not  a  little  astonished  to 


MIGRATION   OF   THE    LAND-CRAB.  267 

find  that  it  was  owing  to  myriads  of  young  black  crabs,* 
about  the  size  of  the  nail  of  a  man's  finger,  crossing  the  road, 
and  moving,  at  a  pretty  pace,  direct  for  the  mountains.  I 
was  concerned  to  think  of  the  destruction  I  was  causing,  in 
travelling  through  such  a  body  of  useful  creatures,  as  I  fancied 
that,  every  time  my  horse  put  down  a  foot,  it  was  the  loss  of 
at  least  ten  lives.  I  rode  along  the  coast,  a  distance  of  at  least 
fifteen  miles,  and  found  it  nearly  the  same  the  whole  way, 
only  that,  in  some  places,  they  were  more  numerous,  in 
others  less  so.  Returning  the  following  day,  I  found  the 
road  still  covered  with  them,  the  same  as  the  day  before.'! 
It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  this  prodigious  multitude  of 
young  ones,  were  moving  from  a  rock-bound  shore,  formed 
by  inaccessible  cliffs,  the  abode  of  sea-birds,  and  against 
which  the  waves  of  the  sea  were  constantly  dashed  by  the 
trade-wind  blowing  directly  upon  them.  That  the  old  crabs 
should  be  able  to  deposit  their  eggs  in  such  a  part  of  the 
coast  (if  that,  as  would  appear,  is  the  habit  of  the  animal),  is 
not  a  little  extraordinary. 

The  whole  of  this  well-authenticated  history  is  so  full  of 
wonder  and  instruction,  that,  did  space  admit,  I  should  be 
tempted  to  express  the  feelings  to  which  it  naturally  gives 
rise  ;  but  the  conclusions  which  may  be  drawn  from  it,  in 
favour  of  Creative  intelligence,  are  too  obvious  to  require  com- 
ment, and  may  be  safely  left  to  the  reflections  of  the  reader. 
The  delicate  food  which  is  thus  thrown,  as  if  by  the  immedi- 
ate hand  of  Providence,  in  the  way  of  the  inhabitants  of  both 
the  land  and  sea,  will  not  escape  observation.  J 

*  This  is  the  same  species  as  that  above  described,  which  is  called  by- 
Goldsmith  the  violet  crab. 

t  Mr.  Barclay  expresses  the  utmost  surprise  at  this  phenomenon,  which 
he  declares  to  be  altogether  unprecedented ;  but  if  it  be  true  that  the 
young  as  well  as  old  crabs,  usually  burrow  through  the  day,  and  travel 
only  by  night,  this  may  partly  account  for  the  appearance  not  being  fa- 
miliar to  the  inhabitants.  On  the  present  occasion,  some  peculiar  state 
of  the  atmosphere  may  perhaps  have  led  the  animal  to  deviate  from  ats 
usual  instinct. 

%  Mr.  Barclay  says,  that  he  has  seen  several  thousand  crabs  caught  in 


WINTER   AN   EMBLEM  OF   DEATH. 


TENTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

WINTER    AN    EMBLEM   OF    DEATH. 

The  seasons  of  the  year  have  been  aptly  compared  to  the 
various  stages  in  the  life  of  man.  Spring,  when  Nature 
bursts  into  new  life,  and  with  such  grace  spreads  out  its 
growing  charms,  amidst  alternate  smiles  and  tears,  beauti- 
fully shadows  forth  the  period  of  infancy  and  youth ;  sum- 
mer, with  its  full-blown  beauties,  and  its  vigorous  powers, 
represents  the  maturity  of  manhood  ;  autumn,  when  the  gol- 
den harvests  are  reaped,  and  the  fields  are  stripped  of  their 
honours,  and  exhausted  Nature  begins  to  droop,  is  a  striking 
figure  of  the  finished  labours,  the  gray  hairs,  and  the  advan- 
cing feebleness  of  old  age ;  while  winter,  cold,  desolate,  and 
lifeless,  indicates  with  an  accuracy  not  more  remarkable 
than  it  is  affecting,  the  rigid  features  and  prostrate  energies 
of  the  human  frame  in  death. 

The  close  of  the  year  which  has  just  taken  place,  and  the 
gloom  which  still  continues,  seem  peculiarly  calculated  to  re- 
mind us  of  human  decay.  The  vital  powers  which  produced 
and  sustained  vegetation  are  withdrawn ;  the  forests  are  leaf- 
less ;  hill  and  dale  mourn  their  faded  verdure  ;  and  cheerless 
desolation  reigns. .  Recollections  of  the  past,  and  anticipations 
of  the  future,  oppress  the  sensitive  mind.  Let  us  turn  our 
thoughts,  then,  on  the  congenial  subject  of  death:  it  is  the 
common  lot  of  every  thing  that  lives.  From  the  micro- 
scopic insect  to  man, — all  must  die.  Each  has  its  spring, 
its  summer,  and  its  autumn  ; — each,  also,  has  its  winter. 
With  some  life  is  literally  but  a  single  day, — or  less,  a  few 
hours  perhaps  ; — others  survive  even  the  period  of  human 
existence  ;  but  the  various  stages  of  life  belong  to  the  ephe- 
meron,  as  well  as  to  the  elephant ;  and  the  former  fulfils  the 

one  night  by  the  negroes,  for  sale  or  home  consumption  ;  and  he  adds, 
that  they  are  one  of  the  greatest  delicacies  in  the  West  Indies. 


WINTER   AN    EMBLEM    OF    DEATH.  269 

end  of  its  being,  as  well  as  the  latter  ;  while  the  hours  of  the 
one  are  perhaps  equally  pregnant  with  incidents,  as  the  years 
of  the  other. 

Death  is  gloomy  and  revolting,  if  we  look  only  at  its  ex- 
ternals. Who,  that  has  seen  a  lifeless  corpse,  has  been  able 
to  remain  unmoved,  by  the  affecting  contrast  to  its  former 
self,  which  is  exhibited  ?  The  closed  and  sunken  eye,  which 
erewhile  beamed  with  intelligence,  or  sparkled  with  delight ; 
the  motionless  lips,  which  gave  utterance  to  sentiments  of 
wisdom  and  of  piety,  or,  it  may  be,  of  reckless  folly  and  un- 
blushing falsehood  ;  the  heart  which  beat  with  feeling,  and 
the  head  which  meditated,  planned,  and  formed  conclusions, 
what  are  they  now  ?  A  heap  of  lifeless  clay, — a  mass  of 
corruption, — food  for  worms  ! 

But  when  we  look  deeper,  and  regard  death  with  the  eye 
of  reason  and  religion,  it  assumes  a  very  different  aspect. 
The  body  is  but  the  house  of  the  soul.  The  feeble  tene- 
ment has  fallen  into  decay,  and  its  living  inmate  has  re- 
moved. It  is  but  the  covering  in  which  the  chrysalis  was 
confined  ;  the  time  of  its  change  has  arrived,  and  it  has 
burst  its  shell,  to  expatiate  in  a  new  life  ;  or  rather  it  is  the 
instrument  with  which  an  intelligent  being  performed  its 
work ; — the  task  is  finished — the  instrument  is  worn  out, 
and  cast  away, — the  artificer  has  gone  to  other  labours. 

Such  is  the  conclusion  of  reason  ;  and  the  analogy  of  Na- 
ture gives  countenance  to  the  view.  Nothing  is  annihilated. 
Every  thing,  indeed, — organized  matter  above  all,  grows 
old,  corrupts,  and  decays  ;  but  it  does  not  cease  to  exist,  it 
only  changes  its  form.  The  herbs,  the  flowers,  and  the 
leafy  pride  of  spring  and  summer,  wither,  fall  and  are  min- 
gled with  their  parent  earth  ;  but  from  their  mouldering  re- 
mains, elements  are  furnished  which  clothe  a  new  year  with 
vegetable  life,  as  fresh,  and  abundant,  and  lovely  as  before. 
Nature  is  not  dead  but  sleepeth.  The  seeds,  roots,  and  buds 
of  the  year  that  are  past,  are  preserved,  through  the  rigours 
of  winter,  with  admirable  care,  till  the  voice  of  a  new  spring 
shall  call  them  once  more  into  life,  that  the  seasons  may 

23* 


270  WINTER    AN   EMBLEM   OF    DEATH. 

again  run  their  course,  and  autumn  may  again  spread  her 
liberal  feast.  Neither  does  the  soul  perish.  It  has  '  shuf- 
fled off  its  mortal  coil,'  but  it  has  not  ceased  to  live.  This 
is  a  conclusion  at  which  we  eagerly  arrive. 

What,  then,  has  become  of  this  ethereal  spark?  Reason 
cannot  tell ;  but  conjecture  has  been  rife.  Some  have  im- 
agined, that  the  disembodied  spirit  passes  into  other  bodies, 
and  runs  a  new  course  of  birth,  life,  and  death,  in  new 
forms, — that  all  living  things,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest 
grade,  are  possessed  of  souls,  which  either  have  animated, 
or  may  yet  animate,  human  frames  ;  and  that  a  constant 
change  from  species  to  species,  and  from  individual  to  indi- 
vidual, is  taking  place,  regulated,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
by  the  law  of  retribution.  This  ingenious  fancy,  which  has 
been  called  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis  or  transmigra- 
tion, has  been  widely  disseminated  through  the  extensive  re- 
gions of  the  East,  and  has  given  a  very  peculiar  mould  to  the 
practices,  and  even  to  the  moral  character,  of  those  who  re- 
ceive it. 

A  prouder  and  more  metaphysical  philosophy,  which  pre- 
vails in  the  same  quarter  of  the  world,  has  offered  another 
solution  of  the  question.  All  life,  it  is  said  by  the  followers 
of  this  sect,  is  but  an  emanation  from  the  great  fountain  of 
existence, — a  drop  from  the  universal  ocean  of  life.  Death 
comes,  and  the  emanation  is  absorbed, — the  drop  returns  to 
the  ocean,  and  mingles,  undistinguished,  with  its  parent 
element. 

Another  doctrine,  well  known,  because  associated  with 
all  our  classical  recollections,  is  that  of  Greece  and  Rome ; 
which  assigns  to  souls  a  separate  state  of  existence  in  the  in- 
fernal regions,  where  rewards  and  punishments  are  awarded, 
acording  to  the  good  or  evil  deeds  of  a  present  life.  The 
puerile  fables,  false  morality,  and  fanciful  traditions,  which 
are  mingled  with  this  doctrine,  tend  to  debase  and  render 
contemptible  what  might  otherwise  be  considered  as  the 
germ  of  a  purer  faith. 

All  that  history  records,  or  modern  discoveries  have  as- 


WINTEE,    AN    EMBLEM    OF    DEATH.  271 

certained,  of  the  belief  of  mankind  on  this  subject  of  vital 
importance,  tends  to  show  the  impotence  of  human  reason ; 
and  shuts  us  up  to  the  revealed  word  of  God,  as  the  only- 
source  of  light  and  of  hope  regarding  the  future  destiny  of 
man.  The  soul  survives  the  grave,  but  where  does  it  go? 
What  new  forms  of  being  does  it  assume  ?  What  conflicts 
and  what  triumphs  are  reserved  for  it  ?  These  are  questions 
which  curiosity,  that  powerful  principle,  unites  with  every 
selfish  and  every  ennobling  feeling  of  the  human  heart,  to 
urge  on  the  attention.  And  what  is  the  answer  which  the 
Divine  oracles  return  ?  Man  is  a  sinner,  and  '  the  wages  of 
sin  is  death.'  Such  is  the  appalling  response.  And  what 
is  death  ?  Not  the  separation  of  the  soul  from  the  body 
merely,  but  the  separation  of  both  soul  and  body  from  God 
for  ever. 

And  is  there  no  remedy  ?  Not  in  the  power  of  man,  but 
in  the  grace  and  mercy  of  God.  '  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  he  sent  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  belie veth 
on  Him  might  not  perish  but  have  everlasting  life.'  The 
incarnate  Son  of  the  Eternal  God  is  our  Saviour.  He  came 
to  earth,  and  assumed  our  form  and  nature,  that  He  might 
take  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  Himself  His  own  words 
are,  '  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  Whosoever  believ- 
eth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ;  and  who- 
soever liveth  and  believeth  in  me,  shall  never  die.' 

Blessed  assurance  !  But  does  it  belong  to  all?  No  !  It 
belongs  only  to  believers.  All  else  are  excluded.  What, 
then,  is  the  portion  of  unbelievers?  There  is  only  one 
answer, — '  Spiritual  death.'  Their  inheritance  is  the  undy- 
ing worm,  and  the  unquenchable  fire.  The  offer  of  life  has 
been  freely  made,  and  they  have  rejected  it :  It  has  been 
urged  upon  them  by  every  motive,  it  has  been  enforced  by 
every  sanction,  and  yet  they  have  rejected  it.  The  means 
of  grace,  the  warnings  and  lessons  of  Providence,  in  the  va- 
ried occurrences  of  life,  have  all  been  employed  in  vain. 
They  have  chosen  death,  and  have  sealed  their  own  doom. 

But  to  you,  who  close  with  the  offered  redemption,  it  is 


272  •  HYBERNATION. 

not  less  secure  than  it  is  glorious  in  the  means  employed, 
and  unspeakably  gracious  in  the  blessings  bestowed.  By  the 
vicarious  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God,  sin  is  punished,  and 
the  sinner  absolved  ;  eternal  justice  is  satisfied  ;  and  infinite 
holiness  is  reconciled.  From  the  horrors  of  impending  de- 
struction,  the  guilty  descendant  of  Adam  is  introduced  to 
anticipations  of  everlasting  life ;  the  child  of  Satan  has  be- 
come an  adopted  child  of  God  ; — the  heir  of  hell,  a  joint  heir 
with  Christ  of  the  blessedness  of  heaven. 

What,  then,  is  death  ?  It  is  to  the  Christian  but  the  pass- 
ing  away  of  a  feverish  dream,  and  an  awaking  to  the  glori- 
ous realities  of  an  endless  and  unclouded  day.  This  at  least 
it  is,  as  far  as  regards  his  soul.  But  his  body  goes  down  to 
the  grave,  and,  for  all  that  we  can  perceive,  is  finally  resolved 
into  its  native  elements.  Yet  it  is  not  so.  A  germ  remains. 
It  is  like  seed  buried  in  winter  by  the  "sower,  beneath  the 
sluggish  soil,  that  it  may  undergo  a  mysterious  change,  and 
rise  again  to  life,  in  a  new  season,  under  a  more  propitious 
sky.  The  spring  of  an  eternal  year  will  come.  It  w^ill 
breathe  on  the  dry  bones,  and  they  shall  Hve.  Then  shall 
the  soul  be  reunited  to  its  material  frame,  '  sown  a  natural 
body,  but  raised  a  spiritual  body ;'  and  this  mysterious  re- 
union, which  seems  essential  to  the  perfect  happiness  of  hu- 
man beings,  will  consummate  the  appointed  period,  when 
death,  the  last  enemy,  shall  be  '  swallowed  up  in  victory ;' 
when  time  itself  shall  perish,  along  with  the  revolution  of 
seasons ;  and  when  one  vast,  measureless,  incomprehensible 
eternity,  shall  embrace  all. 


TENTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

HYBERNATION. OF    QUADRUPEDS THEIR    CLOTHING. 

One  obvious  disadvantage  arising  from  the  change  of  cli- 
mate from  heat  to  cold,  is  the  effect  on  the  bodily  frame, 
which,  at  one  season,  is  oppressed  with  the  fervid  rays  of  an 


QUADRUPEDS THEIR   CLOTHING.  273 

almost  vertical  sun,  and,  at  anotheij  made  to  shiver  under 
the  biting  blast  of  a  wintry  sky.  It  was  not  consistent  with 
the  plans  of  Providence  for  this  fallen  world,  that  this  incon- 
venience should  be  altogether  compensated  for  ;  but  the  con- 
trivances by  which  it  is  alleviated,  and  rendered  tolerable, 
are  truly  wonderful.  One  of  the  most  familiar  of  these  con- 
trivances, is  a  change  from  summer  to  winter  clothing. 

Man  is  born  naked,  but  his  Creator  has  endowed  him  with 
rational  powers,  which  enable  him  to  procure  a  dress  suited 
to  the  various  climes  in  which  he  is  destined  to  live,  and  to 
change  it  with  the  changing  weather,  or  his  altered  residence. 
The  lower  animals,  not  being  favoured  with  the  high  attri- 
bute of  reason,  have  their  wants,  with  respect  to  clothing, 
attended  to  in  another  way.  Those  which  reside  under  the 
burrjing  suns  of  the  tropics,  are  remarkable  for  their  covering 
of  hair,  and  the  total  absence  of  wool ;  while  animals  of  the 
very  same  species,  when  resident  in  colder  countries,  are 
found  to  be  clothed  with  a  warmer  covering,  which  becomes 
still  more  abundant  and  woolly  as  we  approach  the  Polar 
regions.  The  remarkable  change,  in  this  respect,  which 
takes  place  within  a  very  limited  distance,  and  under  no  very 
violent  change  of  temperature,  may  be  exemplified  by  com- 
paring the  strong  and  thin  bristles  of  the  Devonshire  swine, 
with  the  furry  coat  of  those  of  the  Highland  breed.  As  an 
instance  of  this  beneficent  law  of  Nature,  in  a  more  extensive 
range,  we  may  take  the  sheep,  whose  covering,  in  the  tropi- 
cal regions,  is  a  scanty  coat  of  hair,  which,  on  the  alpine 
ranges  of  Spain,  becomes  a  fine  soft  and  silky  wool ;  in  the 
main-land  of  Britain,  is  changed  into  a  fleece,  coarser,  indeed, 
but  thicker,  and  better  adapted  to  resist  the  vicissitudes  of  our 
changeable  weather  ;  in  the  Shetland  Islands,  undergoes  an- 
other transformation,  still  more  capable  of  resisting  the  cold  ; 
and,  in  Iceland,  and  other  regions  verging  towards  the  Pole, 
acquires  the  character  of  a  thick  fur,  interspersed  with  long 
and  coarse  hair, — a  provision  which  is  common  to  the  cloth- 
ing of  numerous  northern  tribes,  and  which  seems  admirably 
calculated  at  once  to  foster  the  animal  heat,  to  give  free  pas* 


274  HYBERNATION. 

sage  to  the  insensible  perspiration,  and  to  serve  as  a  protec- 
tion from  the  penetrating  rains.* 

Now,  what  we  wish  the  reader  particularly  to  remark  is, 
that  effects  similar  to  those  which  are  produced  on  the  cloth- 
ing of  animals  by  a  change  of  climate,  are,  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent, produced  also  by  the  different  seasons  of  the  year. 
There  is  a  beneficent  adaptation,  in  this  respect,  to  the  alter- 
nations of  heat  and  cold,  in  the  same  country.  Examples  of 
this  wise  provision,  among  our  domestic  animals,  are  familiar 
to  every  farmer.  The  horse,  the  cow,  and  the  sheep,  when 
exposed  to  the  open  air,  all  acquire  a  rough  coat  in  win- 
ter, which  they  throw  off  as  the  warm  weather  advances,  be- 
ing then  supplied  with  a  thinner  and  sleeker  covering  ;  and. 
what  is  remarkable,  the  shagginess,  and  consequent  heat,  of 
their  clothing  is  proportioned,  in  each  species,  to  the  extent  of 
their  exposure,  and  the  intensity  of  the  cold.  So  much  is 
this  the  case,  that  it  has  been  alleged,  probably,  however, 
with  some  degree  of  exaggeration,  that,  '  if  we  were  to  look 
at  the  horses,  for  example,  of  the  farmers  on  a  market-day  in 
winter,  we  might  determine  the  relative  temperature  of  their 
respective  farms,  from  the  relative  quantity  of  clothing  pro- 
vided by  Nature  for  the  animals  which  live  on  them.'f  The 
dealers  in  fur  are  well  acquainted  with  the  change  we  are 
now  considering.  In  summer,  the  fur  of  those  animals  which 
are  valued  for  the  possession  of  this  article  of  commerce,  is 
too  thin  and  short  to  be  an  object  of  pursuit ;  but,  as  soon  as 
the  frost  and  snow  begin  to  show  themselves,  a  rapid  altera- 
tion takes  place,  and  the  fur  is  then  said  to  have  suddenly 
ripened.     This  is  remarkably  the  case  in  the  hare  and  rabbit. 

Another^beneficent  provision  of  the  Creator,  for  alleviating 
the  effects  of  cold  in  winter,  is  to  be  discovered  in  the  change 
of  colour,  which  takes  place  in  the  clothing  of  some  species, 
both  of  quadrupeds  and  birds.  It  is  remarkable,  that  the 
tendency  of  this  change  is  from  dark  to  pure  white.     Thus 

*  See  Kirby's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  vol.  i.  p.  64.     See  also  Scripture 
Geology,  p.  349. 
t  Edinburgh  Encyclopaedia — article  Hybernation, 


QUADRUPEDS THEIR    CLOTHING.  275 

the  ermine,  which  is  in  the  summer  months  of  a  pale  brown 
colour,  inclining  to  red,  is  highly  prized  in  winter  for  the 
snow-like  whiteness  of  its  fur  ;  and  the  Alpine  hare  of  the 
Grampian  range  undergoes  a  similar  change,  throwing  off 
its  summer  dress  of  tawny  grey,  and  appearing  in  a  coat  of 
the  colour  of  milk.  Among  the  feathered  tribes,  we  find  the 
ptarmigan,  which  takes  up  its  habitation  on  the  summits  of 
our  most  lofty  Highland  mountains,  and  the  guillemot,  which 
frequents  our  coasts,  endowed  with  an  analogous  property. 
In  the  former,  the  change  is  complete  ;  in  the  case  of  the 
latter,  its  summer  covering  of  black,  is,  in  this  climate,  con- 
verted into  a  plumage  clouded  with  ash-coloured  spots,  on  a 
white  ground  ;  but,  what  distinctly  marks  the  intention  of  the 
Creator,  is,  that  this  latter  bird,  when  exposed,  as  in  Green- 
land, to  a  more  intense  cold,  throws  off  its  spotted  mantle,  and 
appears  in  feathers  of  a  beautiful  and  uniform  white. 

The  object  of  this  remarkable  change  in  the  appearance  of 
these  animals,  is  not  merely,  as  some  writers  have  supposed, 
to  protect  them  from  the  prying  eyes  of  their  enemies,  by  as- 
similating their  colour  to  that  of  the  snow,  though  this  inten- 
tion is  not  to  be  overlooked  ;  but  chiefly,  as  I  believe,  to  pro- 
vide more  effectually  for  their  protection  from  the  alteration, 
in  the  temperature  of  the  seasons.  It  might,  perhaps,  on  a 
superficial  view,  appear,  that  white,  which  consists  in  the  re- 
flection of  all  the  rays  of  light,  was  less  favourable  than  any 
other  colour  to  the  heat  of  the  body,  and  that,  were  the  in- 
tention to  protect  the  animals  from  cold,  the  process  would 
just  be  reversed.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  a  dark  surface  im- 
bibes the  heat  to  which  it  is  exposed  in  greater  quantities 
than  that  which  is  of  a  light  hue,  and  if  this  were  all  that  was 
required,  the  objection  might  be  held  to  be  well  founded. 
But  it  must  be  remembered,  that  the  temperature  of  a  living 
body  depends  chiefly  on  the  power  of  retaining  the  animal 
heat ;  and  it  is  on  this  principle  that  we  are  to  look  fo#the 
ultimate  design  in  the  change  of  colour  to  which  we  have 
alluded.  It  would  appear,  from  chemical  experiment,  that 
the  radiating  power  of  bodies  is  inversely  as  their  reflecting 


276  HYBERNATION. 

power ;  and,  upon  this  principle,  the  white  colour  of  animals, 
possessing  less  radiating  power  than  any  other,  must  be  best 
calculated  to  retain  the  heat  generated  in  their  bodies  by  the 
vital  principle.  Thus,  while  there  is  less  warmth  absorbed 
from  the  external  atmosphere  than  if  their  darker  colour  had 
remained,  this  disadvantage  is  far  more  than  compensated  by 
the  power  which  their  white  clothing  confers,  of  resisting  the 
effects  of  the  external  cold  in  reducing  the  temperature.  This 
is  one  of  the  cases  which  we  so  commonly  meet  with  in  in- 
vestigations of  a  similar  kind,  where  an  imperfect  knowledge 
of  the  laws  of  nature  affords  room  for  plausible  objections 
against  the  arrangements  of  Providence,  which  a  more  pro- 
found acquaintance  with  these  laws  entirely  overturns,  and 
even  converts  into  an  argument  on  the  opposite  side.  Had 
we  only  known,  that  a  white  colour  rejects  the  influence  of 
external  heat  more  obstinately  than  all  the  other  colours,  we 
might  well  be  puzzled  to  account  for  the  fact,  that,  during 
the  winter  months,  a  change  should  take  place,  which  was 
to  render  the  bodies  of  the  animals  subject  to  it,  less  suscepti- 
ble of  atmospherical  warmth,  in  proportion  as  they  seemed 
most  to  require  this  blessing  ;  but,  when  the  more  recent  dis- 
coveries, which  prove  that  the  principle  of  radiation  follows 
an  opposite  law,  set  the  matter  in  its  true  light,  it  is  impossi- 
ble not  to  feel  that  peculiar  satisfaction  which  arises  from 
perceiving  the  consistency  of  benevolent  design ;  and  the 
lesson  which  we  are  thus  taught  goes  even  farther,  leading 
us,  as  it  does,  confidently  to  conclude,  that  wherever  facts  ap- 
parently contradictory  of  Divine  wisdom  or  goodness  are  to 
be  found,  the  difficulty  lies,  not  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  but 
in  the  darkness  of  human  ignorance. 


STORING  INSTINCTS.  277 

TENTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

HYBERNATION. STORING   INSTINCTS. 

As  birds  have  the  power,  and  are  endowed  when  neces- 
sary, with  the  instinct  of  migration,  they  scarcely  stand  in 
need  of  any  other  means  of  avoiding  the  inconveniences  of 
winter  ;  and,  accordingly,  we  find  that  except  the  change  al- 
ready mentioned,  of  a  summer  for  a  winter  dress,  which 
takes  place  in  some  species,  and  the  autumnal  repairing  of 
their  feathers,  there  is  no  other  provision  of  great  importance 
and  extent  made  for  their  hybernation.     But  with  quadru- 
peds, reptiles,  and  insects,  the  case  is  different.     As  they 
were  destined  to  be  confined  to  a  limited  locality,  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  make  sufficient  arrangements  for  their  accommo- 
dation  within   their   native   haunts.     The   warm   clothing, 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  quadrupeds  acquire,  is  calculated  to 
preserve  them  from  the  effects  of  cold  ;  but  something  more 
is  necessary.      Not  only  is  the  breath  of  winter  chilling,  but 
its  hand  is  niggardly  of  food  ;  and  there  is  danger  of  starva- 
tion, not  less  from  the  cravings  of  hunger  than  from  the  ri- 
gour of  the  weather.     To  this  want  the  beneficent  Creator 
has  i^iot  been  inattentive ;  and  the  means  he  employs  to  re- 
medy the  evil  are  not  less  remarkable  than  they  are  effica- 
cious. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  a  deficiency  in  the  supply 
of  the  necessaries  of  life  may  be  compensated  for,  namely, 
either  by  the  accumulation  of  a  store  of  provisions  during 
the  period  of  plenty,  or  by  placing  the  body  in  such  a  state 
as  to  supersede  the  use  of  such  accumulation,  by  rendering  it 
insensible  to  the  demands  of  hunger,  and  yet  preserving  its 
vital  existence.  The  Creator  employs  both  of  these  means. 
This  paper  shall  be  devoted  to  the  consideration  of  the 
former. 

The  class  of  quadrupeds,  among  which  various  species  are 
VOL.  IV.  24 


278  HYBERNATION. 

to  be  found,  that  lay  up  a  winter  store,  is  exclusively  what  is 
known  to  naturalists  by  the  appellation  of  glires,  or  gnawing 
animals.  Of  this  class  are  the  mouse,  the  squirrel,  and  the 
beaver.  Of  the  first  species,  the  field-mouse  is  the  most  re- 
markable for  this  propensity.  This  little  animal  is  exceed- 
ingly active  about  the  end  of  autumn  in  preserving  fallen 
acorns,  by  burying  them  under  ground  ;  being  thus  made 
subservient  to  the  double  purpose  of  hoarding  a  store  for  fu- 
ture use,  and  of  planting  such  part  of  the  seed  as  it  either 
forgets  or  does  not  require,  in  such  a  manner  that  it  may  ger- 
minate and  spring  up  into  a  future  tree,*  destined  to  provide 
the  means  of  subsistence  to  distant  generations  of  the  spe- 
cies. Such  is  the  wonderful  economy  of  Providence  ;  and 
this,  let  it  be  remarked,  in  passing,  is  only  one  instance  of  a 
kind  of  contrivance  extensively  employed,  which  we  shall 
afterwards  have  occasion  to  notice. 

We  have  mentioned  the  common  squirrel  as  another  ex- 
ample of  the  storing  tribe.  This  agile  and  interesting  crea- 
ture takes  up  its  residence  in  our  woods  and  forests,  and, 
during  the  last  month  of  autumn,  is  exceedingly  industrious 
in  collecting  for  itself  a  hoard  of  nuts,  acorns,  and  other 
kinds  of  food,  which  it  carefully  deposits  in  a  storehouse, 
scooped  out  with  some  labour,  in  a  well-chosen  place  of  con- 
cealment, among  the  large  and  embowering  branches  of  a 
shaggy  old  tree.  Here  it  takes  up  its  winter  abode,  prudently 
abstaining  from  the  violation  of  its  little  magazine,  as  long 
as  it  can  find  the  means  of  subsistence  in  its  neighbour- 
hood. 

But  of  all  the  quadrupeds  which  provide  for  their  preser- 
vation during  winter,  by  laying  up  a  stock  of  food,  there  are 
none  so  wonderful  as  the  beavers.  A  branch  of  this  amphi- 
bious family  was  at  one  time  to  be  found  in  Britain  ;  and 

♦  '  In  the  time  of  acorns  falling,'  says  Derham,  '  I  have,  by  means  of 
the  hogs,  discovered  that  the  mice  had,  all  over  the  neighbouring  fields, 
treasured  up  single  acorns  in  little  holes  they  had  scratched,  and  in 
which  they  had  carefully  covered  up  the  acorn.  These  the  hogs  would, 
day  after  day,  hunt  out  by  the  smell.' — Derham's  Physico-Theology. 


STORING   INSTINCTS.  279 

beavers  are  still  natives  of  some  northern  countries  in  Eu- 
rope, though  their  chief  residence  is  in  the  wilds  of  America. 
They  have  long  attracted  the  admiration  of  mankind  by 
their  extraordinary  habits.  Some  of  our  most  celebrated  na- 
turalists, indeed,  fired  by  the  exaggerated  accounts  of  travel- 
lers, have  launched  out  into  encomiums  on  their  wonderful 
faculties,  which  a  more  accurate  knowledge  of  their  opera- 
tions has  of  late  considerably  modified.  After  every  allow- 
ance, however,  for  the  natural  propensity  of  men  to  add  as- 
tonishment to  the  wonderful,  we  find  enough  in  the  most 
sober  and  authentic  accounts  given  of  this  quadruped,  to  ex- 
cite our  surprise. 

The  form  of  the  beaver  does  not  appear  to  be  peculiarly 
well  fitted  for  performing  works  of  skill  and  labour.  It  is 
described  as  not  exceeding  three  feet  in  length  ;  its  paws  are 
said  to  be  about  the  size  of  a  crown  piece  ;  and  its  tail, 
though,  by  its  breadth  and  flatness,  answering  some  impor- 
tant purposes,  seems  to  be  limited  in  power  as  an  instrument 
of  labour,  by  having  naturally  such  an  inclination  down* 
ward,  that  it  can  with  difficulty  be  brought  on  a  line  with 
its  back.  Yet  this  apparently  weak  and  ill-furnished  crea- 
ture, is  represented  as  supplying,  by  its  ingenuity,  the  seem- 
ing defects  in  its  bodily  form,  and  constructing  works  for  the 
comfort  and  convenience  of  its  winter  residence,  which,  in 
reference  to  its  more  contracted  wants,  rival  the  skill  and 
science  of  a  human  architect !  The  following  notice  of  the 
manner  in  which  these  animals  provide  against  the  incle- 
mency of  the  winter  season,  is  abridged  from  a  judicious  ar- 
ticle in  the  Edinburgh  Encyclopssdia. 

'  Towards  autumn,  they  quit  their  roving  way  of  life,  form 
themselves  into  communities,  and  instructed  by  that  admira- 
ble instinct  of  which  we  have  so  many  examples  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  animal  creation,  begin  to  provide  for  the  wants 
of  a  season,  whose  duration  and  inclemency  would  eflJectually 
preclude  a  regular  supply  of  their  accustomed  nourishment. 

<  The  winter  quarters  of  the  beavers  are  situated  on  the 
banks  of  a  river  or  creek,  or,  where  these  are  not  to  be 


280  HYBERNATION. 

found,  on  the  edge  of  a  lake  or  pond.  In  selecting  the  ex- 
act spot  where  they  may  form  their  houses,  they  appear  to  be 
guided  by  two  considerations,  viz  : — a  sufficient  depth  of 
water,  to  prevent  its  being  completely  frozen  ;  and  the  exist- 
ence of  a  current,  by  means  of  which  they  can  readily  con- 
vey wood  and  bark  -to  their  habitations.  To  prevent  the 
water  from  being  drained  off,  when  the  frost  has  stopped  the 
current  towards  its  source,  the  beavers  construct  a  dam  across 
the  stream ;  and,  in  this  work,  they  certainly  display  won- 
derful sagacity,  skill,  and  perseverance.  The  dam  is  con- 
structed of  drift-wood,  branches  of  willows,  birch,  poplar, 
stones,  and  mud,  brought  by  the  beavers  in  their  mouths,  or 
between  their  pa\ys,  and  not,  as  many  have  asserted,  on  their 
tails.  If  the  current  be  slow,  the  dam  runs  straight  across  ; 
but  if  the  stream- be  rapid,  the  dam  is  formed  with  a  regular 
curve,  having  the  convexity  towards  the  current,  so  as  effect- 
ually to  resist  the  force  of  the  water  and  ice,  that  rush  down 
during  the  storms  of  winter,  or  the  thaws  that  take  place  in 
spring.  These  dams  are  several  feet  in  thickness,  and  of 
such  strength,  when  completely  formed,  that  a  man  can  walk 
along  them  with  perfect  safety. 

'  Having  completed  their  dam,  they  proceed  to  construct 
their  cabins.  These  are  partly  excavations  in  the  ground, 
though  their  roofs  form  a  sort  of  vaulted  dome  that  rises  a 
little  above  the  surface.  The  houses  have  seldom  more  than 
one  apartment,  and  never  more  than  one  floor,  which  is  raised 
in  the  middle,  to  allow  of  the  inhabitants  eating  and  sleeping 
in  a  dry  situation.  The  principal  entrance  and  outlet  to 
these  houses,  is  next  the  water,  on  the  very  edge  of  which 
they  are  constructed  ;  and  the  opening  always  slopes  towards 
the  water,  till  it  terminates  so  far  below  its  surface,  as  to  pre- 
serve a  free  communication  in  the  most  severe  frosts.  There 
appears  to  be  another,  though  smaller,  opening  next  the  land. 
The  houses  are  of  various  sizes,  in  proportion  to  the  number 
of  inhabitants,  which  seldom  exceeds  ten  or  twelve,  though 
sometimes  double  that  number  has  been  found  in  the  same 
dwelling.     Many  of  these  houses  stand  together  along  the 


STORING  INSTINCTS.  281 

margin  of  the  water,  forming  a  village  of  from  ten  to  thirty- 
tenements. 

'  During  the  latter  end  of  summer,  the  beavers  cut  down 
their  wood  and  collect  their  roots.  The  latter  are  kept  in  the 
water,  whence  they  fetch  them  as  occasion  may  require.  In 
eating,  they  sit  on  their  rump  like  a  squirrel,  with  their  tail 
doubled  in  between  their  hind  legs,  and  holding  their  food 
between  their  paws.  When  disturbed,  they  utter  a  peculiar 
cry,  and  plunge  into  the  water,  flapping  the  ground  and  the 
water  with  their  tail.' 

The  faculty  of  storing  is  also  to  be  found,  as  we  have  pre- 
viously stated,  among  insects,  of  which  the  example  of  the 
honey-bee  is  the  most  striking.  The  habits  of  this  wonder- 
ful insect,  the  large  and  orderly  community  in  which  it  lives, 
yielding  undeviating  fealty  to  a  female  sovereign  ;  the  mathe- 
matical precision  with  which  it  builds  its  cell ;  its  unweary- 
ing industry ;  its  wise  foresight ;  its  colonizing  propensity, — 
have  already  been  described  in  speaking  of  the  hybernating 
instincts  of  the  insect  creation.  In  studying  its  operations,  as 
well  as  that  of  the  beaver,  and  indeed  of  the  other  storing 
animals,  we  seem  to  get  still  deeper  insight  into  the  nature 
of  that  mysterious  faculty  which,  resembling  reason  in  so 
many  particulars,  yet  differs  from  it  in  this,  that  its  impulses 
are  uniform  and  unchangeable,  belonging  nearly  in  equal 
perfection  in  all  ages,  and  under  all  circumstances,  to  every 
individual  of  the  species ;  scarcely  capable  of  improvement 
by  education,  but  regulated  by  propensities  directed  by  a  wis- 
dom of  which  the  species  is  not  conscious,  to  the  attainment 
of  a  future  object,  which  they  have  not  forethought  to  con- 
template.* What  is  this  but  the  impress  of  the  finger 
of  God  ? 

♦  Mr,  Broderip  gives  a  curious  and  interesting  account  of  the  habits  of 
a  tame  beaver,  brought  to  this  country  in  1825,  which  seems  to  illustrate 
the  distinctive  difference  subsisting  between  reason  and  instinct,  even 
where  they  appear  to  make  the  nearest  approach.  This  little  creature 
was  still  very  young  when  let  out  of  his  cage,  but  immediately  showed 
his  building  instinct.    He  began  by  selecting  the  longest  materials  within 

24* 


282  HYBERNATION. 

TENTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

HYBERNATION. TORPIDITY    OF    ANIMALS. 

Among  the  contrivances  by  which  the  Author  of  Nature 
enables  the  lower  animals  to  sustain  the  privations  of  winter, 
that  by  which  they  are  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  becom- 
ing insensible  to  external  objects,  and  of  approaching  a  state 
of  temporary  death,  is  very  worthy  of  attention.  The  ordi- 
nary phenomena  of  sleep  have  long  been  a  subject  of  deep 
curiosity  to  the  philosophical  inquirer.  The  torpidity  of  ani- 
mals during  the  cold  season,  in  some  respects  resembles  this 
state ;  but  there  is  a  marked  difference  not  only  in  the  period 

his  reach,  such  as  sticks,  sweeping-brushes,  &c.,  which  he  piled  up  in 
such  a  way  that  one  end  touched  the  wall,  and  the  other  projected  into 
the  room.  '  As  the  work  grew  high,  he  supported  himself  upon  his  tail, 
which  propped  him  up  admirably ;  and  he  would  often,  after  laying  on 
one  of  his  building  materials  sit  up  over  against  it,  apparently  to  consider 
his  work,  or,  as  the  country  people  say,  "judge  it."  This  pause  was 
sometimes  followed  by  changing  the  position  of  the  material  "judged," 
and  sometimes  it  was  left  in  its  place.  After  he  had  piled  up  his  mate- 
rials in  one  part  of  the  room  (for  he  generally  chose  the  same  place,)  he 
proceeded  to  wall  up  the  space  between  the  feet  of  a  chest  of  drawers 
which  stood  at  a  little  distance  from  it,  high  enough  on  its  legs  to  make 
the  bottom  a  roof  for  him,  using,  for  this  purpose,  dried  turf  and  sticks, 
which  he  laid  very  even,  and  filling  up  the  interstices  with  bits  of  coal, 
hay,  cloth,  or  any  thing  he  could  pick  up.  This  last  place  he  seemed  to 
appropriate  for  his  dwelling ;  the  former  work  seemed  to  be  intended  for 
a  dam.  When  he  had  walled  up  the  space  between  the  feet  of  a  chest  of 
drawers,  he  proceeded  to  carry  in  sticks,  cloth,  hay,  cotton,  and  to  make 
a  nest ;  and,  when  he  had  done,  he  would  sit  up  under  the  drawers,  and 
comb  himself  with  the  nails  of  his  hind  feet.' 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  there  was,  in  the  case  of  this  tame 
beaver,  a  propensity  evinced  to  construct,  where  the  object  of  the  propen- 
sity no  longer  existed.  The  Author  of  its  being  had  bestowed  on  it  this 
instinct,  for  the  use  of  the  species  in  its  wild  state ;  and  being  destitute  of 
the  reasoning  power  which  would  have  taught  it  the  Heedlessness  of  the 
trouble  it  was  taking,  it  still  continued  not  only  to  build  its  house,  and 
line  its  nest,  where  it  was  already  sheltered  and  comfortable,  but  to  con- 
struct a  dam  where  there  was  no  water. 


TORPIDITY   OP   ANIMALS.  283 

of  insensibility,  and  in  the  wise  intentions  of  Providence 
which  it  fulfils,  but  also  in  the  nature  of  this  provision,  as  it 
affects  the  bodily  frame,  as  well  as  in  other  particulars. 

The  subject  of  torpidity  has  given  rise  to  several  ingenious 
experiments,  by  which  some  curious  facts  have  been  elicited. 
It  is  not  our  object  to  record  these,  but  merely  to  give  a  suc- 
cinct view  of  their  results,  in  so  far  as  they  throw  light  on  the 
operations  of  that  Divine  Being,  from  whose  wisdom  and 
goodness  they  derive  their  origin. 

The  classes  of  animals,  among  whom  this  kind  of  hyber- 
nating  principle  is  found,  are  very  various,  viz.  quadrupeds, 
reptiles,  insects,  perhaps  fishes,  and,  according  to  some,  even 
birds.  Among  quadrupeds,  the  species  which  are  known  to 
become  torpid,  belong  exclusively  to  the  digitated  order.  A 
few  of  these  species  are  of  the  class  primates^  such  as  the  bat ; 
and  of  the  class  fercD,  such  as  the  hedgehog  ;  but  the  most 
numerous  instances  occur  among  the  glires,  of  which  the  dor- 
mouse and  the  marmot  are  familiar  examples. 

Attempts  have  been  made,  but  without  much  success,  to 
ascertain  the  causes  on  which  torpidity  depends.  It  is  not 
extreme  cold,  as  many  have  maintained,  for  some  animals 
collect  in  deep  caves,  where  the  temperature  is  never  low,  or 
congregate  and  burrow  in  the  earth,  where  the  heat  of  their 
bodies  preserves  a  temperature  not  much  inferior  to  that  of 
the  average  state  of  the  external  atmosphere  ;  and  others  be- 
come lethargic  even  in  warm  climates.  It  is  not  the  position 
which  the  body  assumes,  when  about  to  become  torpid,  though 
this  has  also  been  alleged  ;  for  the  different  species  seem  to 
assume  no  other  position  than  that  to  which  they  are  accus- 
tomed in  ordinary  rest.  It  is  not,  so  far  as  has  been  ascer- 
tained, any  distinct  and  uniform  state  of  the  anatomical  con- 
formation, for  anatomists  have,  in  vain,  attempted  to  establish 
any  peculiarity  in  the  bodily  structure  of  such  animals,  which 
can  account  for  the  phenomenon.  It  is  not,  in  fine,  an  im- 
mediate destitution  of  food,  for  a  remarkable  fact  connected 
with  this  state  is,  that  when  animals  become  torpid,  they  are 
generally  speaking,  unusually  plump  and  fat.     Some  of  these 


284  HYBERNATION. 

circumstances,  indeed,  commonly  occur  at  the  period  when 
these  animals  fall  into  the  dormant  state,  and  seem,  in  a  cer- 
tain degree,  to  influence  the  result.  Thus,  the  exact  time  of 
the  change  may  be  hastened  or  retarded,  by  the  temperature 
of  the  atmosphere,  or  the  plenty  or  scarcity  of  food  ;  but  there 
seems  to  be  no  reason  to  conclude,  that  these  circumstances, 
considered  merely  as  physical  causes,  are  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  phenomenon  ;  and  we  are  rather  inclined  to  believe, 
that  the  animals  themselves  have  some  power  in  their  own 
volition,  of  either  inducing  or  resisting  the  lethargic  condi- 
tion. Spallanzani  has  seen  bats  in  a  torpid  state,  even  during 
summer.  A  migratory  hamster  [cricetus  glis),  was  placed  by 
Mangili  in  a  state  of  confinement,  in  spring  when  it  was  na- 
turally in  its  waking  period  ;  and,  as  soon  as  it  found  that  it 
could  not  escape,  it  refused  to  eat,  and,  throwing  itself  on  its 
back,  became  torpid,  in  which  state  it  remained  till  the  17th 
July.  The  land  testacea  certainly  have  the  power  of  becom- 
ing torpid,  independent  of  the  severity  of  the  weather.  If 
specimens  of  the  helix  hortefisis,  for  example,  be  placed,  even 
at  midsummer,  in  a  box  without  food,  they  soon  attach  them- 
selves to  the  side  of  the  place  of  their  confinement,  and  be- 
come dormant ;  in  which  state  they  may  be  kept  for  several 
years. 

Torpidity,  in  short,  is  an  instinct,  and  exhibits  many  of  the 
interesting  but  mysterious  characteristics  of  this  faculty. 
When  the  season  of  storms  and  scarcity  is  about  to  arrive,  the 
animals  to  whom  this  habit  belongs,  carefully  select  a  proper 
place  of  retreat,  respectively  corresponding  to  their  several 
natures,  where  they  may  spend,  in  a  happy  oblivion,  the 
dreary  winter  months.  '  The  bat,'  to  borrow  the  words  of 
the  article  '  Hybernation,'  in  the  Edinburgh  EncyclopaBdia, 
'  retires  to  the  roof  of  gloomy  caves,  or  to  the  old  chimneys 
of  uninhabited  castles  ;  the  hedgehog  wraps  itself  up  in  those 
leaves  of  which  it  composes  its  nest,  and  remains  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hedge,  or  under  covert  of  the  furze  which  screened 
it  during  summer,  from  the  scorching  sun  or  the  passing 
storm ;  the  marmot  and  the  hamster  retire  to  their  subterra- 


TORPIDITY   OF   ANIMALS.  285 

nean  retreats,  and  when  they  feel  the  first  approach  of  the  tor- 
pid state,  shut  the  passages  to  their  habitations  in  such  a 
manner,  that  it  is  more  easy  to  dig  up  the  earth  any  where 
else,  than  in  the  parts  which  they  have  thus  fortified.' 
'  Many  of  those  animals,  particularly  such  as  belong  to  the 
great  natural  family  of  gnawers^  make  provision  in  their  re- 
treats during  the  harvest  month.  The  marmot,  it  is  true, 
lays  up  no  stock  of  provisions ;  but  the  hamsters  fill  their 
stores  with  all  kinds  of  grain,  on  which  they  are  supposed  to 
feed  until  the  cold  becomes  sufficiently  intense  to  induce  tor- 
pidity. The  cricetus  giis,  or  migratory  hamster  of  Pallas, 
also  lays  up  a  stock  of  provisions.  The  same  remark  is 
equally  applicable  to  the  dormouse.' 

Animals,  in  preparing  for  this  dormant  state,  are  consider- 
ably actuated  by  their  usual  habits  while  awake,  not  only  in 
the  choice  of  a  place  of  retreat,  but  also  with  regard  to  their 
social  or  solitary  instincts.  Thus,  the  hedgehog  and  dor- 
mouse spend  their  period  of  insensibility  alone,  while  the 
marmot,  the  hamster,  and  the  bat,  collect,  for  this  purpose,  in 
large  societies. 

Some  curious  particulars  have  been  noted  of  the  physical 
condition  of  animals  during  their  torpidity.  In  this  state 
they  suffer  a  great  diminution  of  bodily  temperature  ;  they 
breathe  slowly,  and  only  at  intervals  proportioned  to  the 
depth  of  their  slumber,  sometimes  with  long  periods  of  total 
intermission  ;  the  circulation  of  their  blood  becomes  languid 
to  such  an  extent,  that  even  the  pulsation  of  the  heart  is 
scarcely  felt ;  the  animal  irritability  decreases,  so  that  limbs 
may  be  lopped  oflT,  and  even  the  vital  parts  laid  open,  almost 
without  exciting  any  symptoms  of  feeling  ;  the  action  of  the 
digestive  organs  is  suspended  ;  the  body  becomes  gradually 
emaciated,  and  its  weight  is  diminished,  but  without  impair- 
ing the  living  principle,  which,  on  the  contrary,  is  found  to 
be  in  a  remarkably  energetic  and  active  state  at  the  period 
of  resuscitation. 

Many  of  the  observations  which  we  have  made  as  to  quad- 
rupeds, will  apply  also  to  reptiles.     These  cold-blooded  ani- 


286  HYBERNATION. 

mals  adopt  similar  precautions  in  selecting  proper  places  of 
retreat,  to  protect  them  from  their  enemies,  and  to  preserve 
them  from  sudden  alternations  of  temperature.  Those  which 
inhabit  the  waters,  sink  into  the  soft  mud ;  while  such  as 
live  on  land,  enter  the  holes  and  crevices  of  rocks,  or  other 
places,  where  there  is  little  change  of  temperature.  Thus 
disposed  of,  they  obey  the  impulse,  and  become  torpid.  The 
effect  of  cold  in  inducing  and  prolonging  this  state,  is  much 
more  remarkable  than  in  warm-blooded  animals.  It  is  said 
that  frogs  and  snakes  may  be  kept  in  a  torpid  state,  in  an  ice- 
house, for  several  years,  without  any  diminution  of  their  vi- 
tal energy.  It  is,  perhaps,  on  a  similar  principle,  that  toads 
have  been  found  alive,  after  having,  for  centuries,  been  im- 
bedded in  the  heart  of  stones. 

The  torpidity  of  the  mollusca  tribes,  and  of  insects,  is  much 
more  general  than  that  of  the  higher  genera  of  animals ;  but 
as  the  state  of  these  more  minute  animals  during  winter  has 
occupied  our  attention  in  other  papers,  I  shall  at  present  pass 
the  subject  with  this  single  observation,  that  the  paternal  care 
of  the  Creator  is  not  less  conspicuous  in  the  case  of  the  mi- 
croscopic insect,  than  that  of  the  most  lordly  quadruped ;  and 
that  the  lower  we  descend  in  the  scale  of  existence,  the  more 
striking  appear  to  be  the  proofs  of  a  universal  Providence, 
which  has  caused  the  world  to  teem  with  life  and  enjoy- 
ment. 

If  we  cannot,  from  physical  causes,  account  for  the  torpid- 
ity of  animals,  neither  shall  we  be  able  to  discover,  in  such 
causes,  any  adequate  reason  for  their  revival  at  the  fit  period. 
This  revival  does  not  take  place  in  all  classes  at  the  same 
time  ;  but,  speaking  generally,  none  of  them  burst  their  leth- 
argic chains  till  the  revolving  season  has  brought  round  a 
genial  warmth,  along  with  supplies  of  proper  nourishment. 
Had  we  only  to  account  for  the  reviviscence  of  those  animals 
which  are  exposed  to  the  changes  of  temperature,  we  might, 
perhaps,  rest  satisfied  with  the  idea,  that  the  return  of  warmth 
was  the  immediate  stimulus  by  which  the  change  was  ef- 
fected ;  but  what  shall  we  say  of  the  numerous  instances  in 


TORPIDITY    OF    ANIMALS. 


287 


whi^ft  these  winter  sleepers  bury  themselves  so  deep,  or  lie 
congregated  so  close,  and  secured  so  carefully,  as  to  remain 
beyond  the  reach  of  atmospheric  changes  ?  By  what  calendar 
do  the  bats,  for  example,  in  the  interminable  windings  and 
dark  recesses  of  the  Mammoth  cave  of  Kentucky,  count  the 
return  of  the  months  of  spring  ?  What  voice  whispers  to  the 
little  marmot,  as  it  lies  in  its  deep  burrow,  fostered  by  the  an- 
imal heat  of  its  fellows,  with  every  avenue  to  the  open  air 
effectually  sealed  up,  that  the  stiffening  frost  no  longer  en- 
chains the  soil,  and  that  the  season  of  herbs  and  of  roots  has 
returned  ?  Only  one  answer  can  be  returned  ;  and  .we  are 
forced  anew  to  acknowledge  the  presence  of  a  mysterious  in- 
stinct, or  rather  of  that  bountiful  being  who,  while  He  every 
where  works,  every  where  conceals  Himself  from  mortal 
eyes ;  or  is  seen  only  by  reflection  from  his  visible  creation. 

We  mean  not  to  assert,  either  here  or  elsewhere,  that,  in 
the  processes  of  instinct,  the  Creator  does  not  act,  as  he  acts 
in  the  better  known  operations  of  nature,  by  means  of  second 
causes,  which  might  be  made  manifest  to  rational  creatures, 
and  the  force  and  adequacy  of  which  might  be  understood  by 
them  ;  but  we  do  mean  to  say,  that  these  causes  have  not  yet 
been  discovered ;  and  that,  whether  discovered  or  not,  there  is, 
in  the  appearances  we  have  been  considering,  a  distinct  and 
undeniable  indication  of  a  Supreme  Intelligence  moulding 
the  faculties  of  living  creatures,  and  wonderfully  adapting 
their  powers  to  the  circumstances  of  the  external  creation,  so 
as  to  promote  the  preservation  of  their  existence,  and  to  con- 
tribute to  their  enjoyment. 


TENTH    WEEK— THURSDAY. 

I.    MAN   IN   WINTER. PRIVATION    STIMULATES   HIS   FACULTIES. 

There  is  something  very  peculiar,  but  remarkably  adapt- 
ed to  the  general  constitution  of  nature,  in  the  circumstances 
and  condition  of  man,  as  compared  with  other  animals,  point- 


288  MAN    IN   WINTER. 

ing  directly  to  certain  great  ends  and  principles  of  his  exist- 
ence, and  confirming,  in  a  very  striking  manner,  the  character 
which  we  have  already  stated  to  be  impressed  by  the  great 
Creator  on  his  works.  Man  is,  of  all  animals,  the  least 
provided  with  natural  means  of  defence  from  his  numerous 
enemies,  as  far  as  relates  to  his  bodily  powers,  and  the  most 
scantily  supplied  with  protection  from  the  vicissitudes  of  cli- 
mate. He  enters  life  unclothed,  and  utterly  helpless;  he 
grows  up  slowly  to  manhood,  amidst  a  thousand  difficulties 
and  dangers.  During  the  first  period  of  his  existence,  he 
must  necessarily  depend  on  the  good  offices  of  others,  for  the 
means  of  preserving  life  ;  and,  in  the  last  stage,  he  descends 
again  into  all  the  feebleness,  inactivity,  and  dependence,  of  a 
second  childhood.  It  is  not  so  with  other  animals.  They 
come  into  the  world  clothed,  armed,  and  furnished  with  in- 
struments and  means  of  subsistence,  or,  at  least,  after  a  few 
days  or  weeks  of  dependence  on  their  parents,  they  are  thrown 
upon  their  own  resources,  with  ample  means  of  support  and 
enjoyment.  This  contrast  between  the  early  condition  of 
man  and  the  lower  animals,  is  described  by  a  Roman  poet 
in  lines  elegant,  but  querulous,  which  may  be  thus  trans- 
lated :— 

The  infant,  first  emerging  into  day, 

Amidst  a  mother's  agonizing  throes. 

Lies,  like  the  shipwreck'd  mariner,  when  toss'd 

From  the  fierce  billows, — naked,  helpless,  sad; 

And  weeps  and  moans,  as  well  beseems  a  wretch 

Cast  on  a  world  with  grief  and  pain  oppressed. 

Not  so  the  peaceful  flocks  and  herds — not  so 

Are  rear'd  the  savage  beasts ; — for  naught  reck  they 

Of  cradled  rest,  or  bland  and  prattling  talk 

Of  watchful  nurse,  or  clothing  warm  or  cool, 

As  varying  seasons  rule  the  inconstant  year. 

No  arras  they  seek,  nor  lofty  walls,  to  guard 

Their  hoarded  treasures ;  for,  with  bounteous  hand, 

Earth  spreads  her  varied  stores,  and  Nature  yields 

Her  wondrous  powers,  to  bless  their  countless  tribes.* 

♦  '  Turn  porro  puer,  ut  ssevis  projectus  ab  undis 
Navita,  nudus  humi  jacet,  infans,  indigus  omni 


PEIVATION    STIMULATES    HIS    FACULTIES.  289 

The  intention  of  the  Creator  in  thus  throwing  the  infant 
on  the  immediate  protection  and  tender  assiduities  of  his  pa- 
rents, is  not  unkind,  but  the  very  reverse.  Constituted  as 
man  is,  such  a  state  of  dependence,  on  the  one  hand,  and  of 
guardianship  on  the  other,  is  of  the  highest  importance  to  the 
development  of  the  moral  and  even  of  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties, and  impresses  a  character  of  affection  and  of  mutual 
sympathy  on  the  human  heart,  which  extends  from  the  fami- 
ly circle  to  the  whole  relations  of  life ;  and  while  it  binds 
society  together  by  the  strongest  ties,  sheds  over  it  the  most 
endearing  charm. 

But  it  is  not  in  this  view  that  we  are  led  at  present  to  con- 
sider the  subject.  We  have  to  inquire  how  this  naked  and 
houseless  creature  finds  shelter  and  protection  from  the  rig- 
ours of  winter ;  and  this  throws  us  into  a  wide  but  most 
interesting  field  of  inquiry,  leading,  as  it  does,  to  a  considera- 
tion of  the  peculiar  provisions  and  adaptations  by  which  the 
energies  of  the  human  mind  are  called  forth  and  disciplined, 
— a  subject  to  which  we  formerly  adverted,  but  which  seems 
worthy  of  reconsideration,  as  applicable  to  this  particular 
case. 

The  sentence  which  has  passed  on  fallen  man  is,  '  In  the 
sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread,  till  thou  return  unto 
the  ground ;'  and,  by  the  peculiar  ordinance  of  a  wonder- 
working Providence,  that  which  is  his  curse  is  converted  into 
the  means  of  giving  vigour  and  enlargement  to  his  mental 
powers.     It  is  by  the  pressure  of  necessity,  and  the  urgency 

Vitali  auxilio,  cum  primum  in  luminis  oras 
Nixibus,  ex  alvo  matris  natura  profudit; 
Vagituque  locum  lugubri  complet,  ut  squum  est, 
Cui  tantum  in  vita  restet  transire  malorum. 
At  variae  crescunt  Pecudes,  Armenia,  Feraeque  ; 
Nee  crepitacula  eis  opu'  sunt,  nee  cuiquam  adhibendaest 
AlmsB  nutricis  blanda  atque  infracta  loquela: 
Nee  varias  quaerunt  vesteis,  pro  tempore  coeli. 
Denique  non  armis  opus  est,  non  mcenibus  altis, 
Queis  sua  tutentur,  quando  omnibus  omnia  large 
Tellus  ipsa  parit,  naturaque  daedala  rerum.' 
VOL.  rv.  25 


290  MAN    IN    WINTER. 

of  wantj  that  our  natural  aversion  to  labour,  and  love  of  in- 
action, are  overcome.  To  prove  this^  we  do  not  need  to  re- 
vert to  the  theories  of  philosophers,  or  to  follow  man  through 
his  fancied  stages  of  advancement,  from  his  lowest  grade, — a 
savage  roamer  of  the  forest,  feeding  on  nuts  and  roots, — till 
we  find  him,  first  a  hunter  and  fisher,  then  a  shepherd,  next 
a  tiller  of  the  soil,  and  last  of  all,  a  man  of  commerce,  and  an 
adept  in  the  arts  and  sciences. 

In  the  supposed  steps  of  this  progress,  history  does  not  bear 
us  out ;  but  we  do  know,  from  all  history,  as  well  as  from 
daily  experience,  that  the  wants  of  man  stimulate  his  ingenu- 
ity ;  that  these  wants  increase  with  the  power  of  gratifying 
them,  while  the  ingenuity  which  supplies  them  keeps  pace 
with  his  enlarging  desires,  and  that  thus  there  is  a  constant 
action  and  re-action,  which,  by  a  most  wonderful  and  inter- 
esting process,  urges  man  on,  from  stage  to  stage  of  improve- 
ment, till  he  becomes,  what  we  find  him  to  be  in  the  most 
advanced  state  of  society, — a  being  as  different,  in  his  mental 
attainments,  from  the  wandering  savage,  as  the  lordly  ele- 
phant, in  his  physical  powers,  is  from  the  blind  worm  of  the 
earth.  The  human  mind  is  mighty  and  various  in  its  fa- 
cilities ;  but  before  these  become  available  to  any  great  ex- 
tent, they  must  be  excited  by  external  objects,  trained  and 
moulded  by  discipline,  and  enlightened  by  the  accumulated 
wisdom  of  ages ;  and  to  perform  these  important  functions, 
the  circumstances  and  condition  of  external  nature  are  admi- 
rably suited. 

This  observation  applies  universally,  and  might  be  illus- 
trated in  a  thousand  different  ways ;  but  take  the  case  imme- 
diately before  us, — the  necessity  of  protection  from  the  vicis- 
situdes of  the  seasons.  In  what  state  do  we  find  civilized 
man?  Think  of  the  comforts  and  conveniences  which  he 
has  accumulated  around  him,  for  the  purpose  in  view.  This 
naturally  naked  and  helpless  creature,  makes  the  whole  cre- 
ation, both  animate  and  inanimate,  contribute  to  his  defence 
from  the  wintry  blast,  and  from  the  summer's  heat.  The 
hemp,  the  flax,  the  cotton  plant,  and  the  inner  bark  of  various 


PPaVATION    STIMULATES   HIS   FACULTIES.  291 

trees,  yield  their  vegetable  stores ;  the  sheep  gives  its  fleece ; 
the  silk-worm  its  web ;  the  cow  her  hide  ;  the  goose  and  the 
eider-duck  their  down ;  the  beaver,  the  ermine,  and  the  bear, 
their  fur,  that  his  want  of  natural  clothing  may  be  supplied ; 
and  that,  by  adapting  his  covering  to  the  climate,  he  may 
either  brave  the  rigours  of  the  polar  sky,  or  support,  without 
material  inconvenience,  the  fierce  rays  of  a  tropical  sun. 

Again,  attend  to  his  place  of  residence. — What  convenien- 
ces!— -what  comforts! — what  luxuries!  Within  his  own 
limited  locality,  Providence  has  given  him  every  thing  ne- 
cessary for  the  supply  of  his  wants.  Every  where  there  is  to 
be  found  stone,  and  lime,  and  wood,  and  iron,  or  some  useful 
substitutes.  Of  these,  the  cottage,  the  hall,  and  the  palace,  are 
all  equally  constructed.  There  is,  elaborated  by  his  industry 
from  materials  readily  within  his  reach,  glass,  to  admit  the 
light  and  exclude  the  chilly  blast ;  there  are  coals,  or  billets, 
or  peat,  for  fire  to  warm  ;  there  are  downy  beds  for  necessary 
rest:  and,  if  ambition  or  voluptuousness  looks  farther,  the 
East  brings  its  perfumes  and  its  gems  ;  the  West  and  the 
South  their  precious  metals  and  their  ornamental  furniture ; 
the  North  its  oil,  to  afford  artificial  day ;  all  climates  and  all 
countries  contribute,  of  their  abundance  and  their  varieties,  to 
supply  the  cravings  of  a  constantly  increasing  and  never  sat- 
isfied appetite  for  accumulation  and  enjoyment. 

And  so  it  is,  that  the  very  privations  and  disadvantages, 
with  which  man  comes  into  the  world,  become  the  means  by 
which  the  desire  of  acquiring  and  improving  is  stimulated, 
till  he  not  only  equals  the  lower  animals  in  those  gifts,  natu- 
rally withheld  from  him,  with  which  Providence  had  endow- 
ed them,  but  rises  far  beyond  them ;  and,  by  means  of  his 
mental  qualities,  deservedly  earns  for  himself  the  title,  which 
his  bodily  faculties  could  never  have  merited,, of  being  em- 
phatically lord  of  this  nether  sphere. 


292  MAN    IN    WINTER. 

TENTH    WEEK— FRIDAY, 

n.    MAN   IN   WINTER. PROVISIONS   FOR   HIS    COMFORT. 

It  is  most  interesting  to  look  into  the  various  features  of 
that  providential  administration,  by  which,  under  a  very  pe- 
culiar and  surprising  discipline,  the  progress  of  society  is  ad- 
vanced, and  man  rises  in  the  scale  of  moral  and  intelligent 
beings.  In  the  wants  of  his  natural  state,  as  regards  the  sea- 
son of  winter,  we  yesterday  saw  how  a  stimulus  is  em- 
ployed, which,  combined,  doubtless,  with  other  incentives, 
induces  him  to  seek,  first,  necessaries,  then  conveniences, 
then  comforts  and  luxuries,  till  he  draws  around  him  the  re- 
sources of  the  world,  and,  by  the  ever-expanding  views  of  an 
aspiring  mind,  calls  progressively  into  action  those  mental 
powers,  both  in  himself  and  his  fellows,  which  might  other- 
wise have  lain  dormant. 

If,  from  this  view  of  the  exercise  given  to  genius  and  ta- 
lent, in  counteracting  the  privations  of  winter,  we  turn  to  the 
provisions  which  have  been  bountifully  made  in  external  na- 
ture, for  aifording  scope  to  these  faculties,  we  shall  find  addi- 
tional cause  of  devout  admiration. 

The  first  thing  worthy  of  remark,  in  this  department  of 
the  subject,  is,  that  speaking  generally,  the  materials  by 
which  exposure  to  the  inclemency  of  the  season  may  be  ob- 
viated, lie  patent  and  abundant  in  those  climates  where  such 
inconveniences  are  liable  to  be  felt.  In  proportion  as  we 
penetrate  into  the  colder  regions,  animals  are  found  in  greater 
plenty,  whose  coats  of  soft  and  downy  fur,  furnished  benefi- 
cently by  their  Creator  for  their  own  protection,  when  trans- 
ferred to  the  human  body,  defy  the  wintry  storms.  If  we  ap- 
proach still  nearer  the  polar  circle,  we  discover  a  provision 
which  renders  even  these  regions  of  gloom  and  intense  cold, 
habitable  during  the  severest  part  of  the  year.  The  enor- 
mous tenants  of  the  icy  seas,  which  surround  these  inhospita- 
ble coasts,  not  only  furnish  the  inhabitants  with  food,  but, 


PROVISIONS   FOR   HIS    COMFORT.  293 

being  enveloped  in  immense  loads  of  fat,  yield  to  them  all 
that  is  needful,  both  for  light  and  heat,  in  their  dark  and 
chilly  winter  months.  Nay,  the  very  snow,  which  clothes 
Nature  as  in  a  winding-sheet,  and  seems  to  augur  nothing 
but  desolation  and  death,  is  converted,  by  the  ingenuity  of 
man,  into  a  comfortable  habitation,  and  thus  becomes  a  pre- 
server of  life,  and  a  means  of  enjoyment. 

Then,  again,  if  we  speak  of  fuel,  how  bountiful  is  Provi- 
dence in  supplying  those  exhaustless  forests  of  pine  in  the 
northern  regions  of  Europe,  and  those  immense  fields  of  coal 
in  Britain  and  other  similar  climates,  by  which  frost  is 
charmed  away  from  the  dwellings  of  the  inhabitants  !  Can 
we  believe  it  to  be  without  a  beneficent  design,  that  such 
amazing  magazines  of  cumbustible  matter  should  be  deposit- 
ed within  our  temperate  zones  ?  And  does  it  not  add  to  the 
wonder  of  this  provision  that  coal  is  known  to  be  a  vegetable 
production  of  a  climate  altogether  different  from  that  in 
which  it  is  found, — a  climate  probably  not  inferior  in  warmth, 
and  in  the  power  of  nourishing  vegetation,  to  the  most  fa- 
voured of  our  tropical  regions  1*  When,  and  under  what 
circumstances,  did  that  profusion  of  gigantic  trees  and  plants 
cover  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  luxuriate  in  the  sunshine  and 
the  shower  of  a  blessed  climate,  which,  under  the  name  of 
Surturbrand,  has  erected  the  platform  on  which  northern 
Iceland  rears  its  burning  mountain,  and  spreads  its  rugged 
hills  and  plains ;  and  in  Britain,  the  land  of  manufactures, 
and  America,  that  new  country,  bouyant  with  youthful  en- 
terprise, has  laid  up  those  amazing  stores  of  fuel,  which  many 
centuries  of  human  toil  and  industry,  can  scarcely  be  said  to 
diminish?  A  mystery  hangs  over  the  subject,  which  the 
geologist,  with  all  his  zeal  and  acuteness,  shall  probably  in 
vain  attempt  to  penetrate ;  but  it  is  enough  for  our  present 
purpose  to  know  the  fact.     By  whatever  natural  catastrophe 

*  The  high  temperature  of  the  localities  in  which  the  vegetation  was 
produced  that  has  given  rise  to  our  coal  fields,  is  inferred  from  the  gigan- 
tic size  of  the  ferns,  mosses,  and  other  plants,  still  discovered  in  the  forma- 
tion. 

25* 


294  MAN   IN   WINTER. 

these  ancient  woods  and  forests  were  submerged,  there  they 
are,  collected  in  the  most  convenient  localities,  at  once  for 
furnishing  the  means  of  comfort  during  the  rigours  of  an  un- 
genial  winter,  and  for  affording  facilities  to  the  increase  of 
human  power,  in  the  cultivation  and  improvement  of  the 
arts  of  life.*  Is  it  too  much  to  say,  that  here  is  the  hand  of 
a  Paternal  Providence  ? 

Fuel  implies  the  use  of  fire,  and  this  leads  us  to  look  at 
some  of  the  properties  of  that  wonderful  element,  which,  on 
the  hearth  and  in  the  lamp,  contributes  so  materially  to  the 

*  Dr.  Buckland,  after  stating  that  iron  is  frequently  associated  with 
coal  in  the  subordinate  beds  of  the  transition  series,  concludes  a  chapter 
on  this  subject  with  the  following  interesting  observations : — '  The  impor- 
tant uses  of  coal  and  iron  in  administering  to  the  supply  of  our  daily 
wants,  give  to  every  individual  amongst  us,  in  almost  every  moment  of 
our  lives,  a  personal  concern,  of  which  but  few  are  conscious,  in  the  geo- 
logical events  of  these  very  distant  eras.  We  are  all  brought  into  imme- 
diate connection  with  the  vegetation  which  clothed  the  ancient  earth,  be- 
fore one-half  of  its  actual  surface  had  yet  been  formed.  The  trees  of  the 
primeval  forests  have  not,  like  modern  trees,  undergone  decay,  yielding 
back  their  elements  to  the  soil  and  atmosphere,  by  which  they  have  been 
nourished,  but  treasured  up  in  subterranean  storehouses,  have  been  trans- 
formed into  enduring  beds  of  coal,  which,  in  these  latter  ages,  have  be- 
come to  man  the  sources  of  heat,  and  light  and  wealth.  My  fire  now 
burns  with  fuel,  and  my  lamp  is  shining  with  the  light  of  gas,  derived 
from  coal  that  has  been  buried  for  countless  ages  in  the  deep  and  dark  re- 
cesses of  the  earth.  We  prepare  our  food,  and  maintain  our  forges  and 
furnaces,  and  the  power  of  our  steam-engines,  with  the  remains  of  plants 
of  ancient  forms  and  extinct  species,  which  were  swept  from  the  earth 
ere  the  formation  of  the  transition  strata  was  completed.  Our  instru- 
ments of  cutlery,  the  tools  of  our  mechanics,  and  the  countless  machines 
which  we  construct,  by  the  infinitely  varied  applications  of  iron,  are  de- 
rived from  ore,  for  the  most  part  coeval  with,  or  more  ancient  than  the 
fuel,  by  the  aid  of  which  we  reduce  it  to  its  metallic  state,  and  apply  it  to 
innumerable  uses  in  the  economy  of  human  life.  Thus  from  the  wreck 
of  forests  which  waved  upon  the  surface  of  the  primeval  lands,  and  from 
ferruginous  mud  that  was  lodged  at  the  bottom  of  the  primeval  waters, 
we  derive  our  chief  supplies  of  coal  and  iron,  those  two  fundamental  ele- 
ments of  art  and  industry,  which  contribute,  more  than  any  other  mine- 
ral production  of  the  earth,  to  increase  the  riches,  and  multiply  the  com- 
forts, and  ameliorate  the  condition  of  mankind.' — BiLckland's  B.  T.  vol. 
i.  pp.  66,  67. 


PauViSiONS   FOR    HIS    COMFORT.  295 

comforts  of  winter.  This  is  the  very  same  element,  which, 
by  its  subtle  and  ail-pervading  powers,  gives  light  and  warmth 
to  the  world,  and  the  effects  of  which,  the  poet  of  the  Sea- 
sons so  beautifully  describes,  in  speaking  of  the  j\dorable 
power  and  goodness  of  the  Creator,  when  he  says,  that  His 
mighty  hand 

*  Works  in  the  secret  deep  ;  shoots,  steaming,  thence 
The  fair  profusion  that  o'erspreads  the  spring ; 
Flings  from  the  sun  direct  the  flaming  day  ; 
Feeds  every  creature ;  hurls  the  tempest  forth; 
And,  as  on  earth  the  grateful  change  revolves, 
With  transport  touches  all  the  springs  of  Hfe.' 

In  the  treatise  on  Heat,  published  in  the  '  Library  of  Use- 
ful Knowledge,'  there  are  the  following  introductory  obser- 
vations, which  describe,  in  a  popular  manner,  some  of  the 
most  obvious  effects  of  this  remarkable  agent : — '  In  all  our 
excursions  over  the  surface  of  the  globe,  innumerable  objects 
excite  our  admiration,  and  contribute  to  our  delight.  But 
whether  our  gratitude  is  awakened  by  the  verdure  of  the 
earth,  the  lustre  of  the  waters,  or  the  freshness  of  the  air,  it 
is  to  the  beneficial  agency  of  heat  (under  Providence)  that 
we  are  indebted  for  them  all.  Without  the  presence  and  ef- 
fects of  heat,  the  earth  would  be  an  impenetrable  rock,  inca- 
pable of  supporting  animal  or  vegetable  life,  the  waters 
would  be  for  ever  deprived  of  their  fluidity  and  motion,  and 
the  air  of  its  elasticity  and  its  utility  together. 

'Heat  animates,  invigorates,  and  beautifies  all  Nature. 
Its  influence  is  absolutely  necessary,  to  enable  plants  to  grow, 
put  forth  their  flowers,  and  perfect  their  fruits.  It  is  closely 
connected  with  the  powers  of  life,  since  animated  beings  lose 
their  vitality  when  heat  is  withdrawn.  Such  is  the  univer- 
sal influence  of  this  powerful  agent  in  the  kingdoms  of  Na- 
ture ;  nor  is  this  influence  diminished  in  the  provinces  of  art. 
It  is  with  the  aid  of  heat  that  rocks  are  rent,  and  the  hidden 
treasures  of  the  earth  obtained.  Matter  is  modified  ten  thou- 
Band  ways  by  its  agency,  and  rendered  subservient  to  the  uses 
of  man,  furnishing  him  with  useful  and  appropriate  instru- 


296  MAN   IN    WINTER. 

ments,  warm  and  ornamental  clothing,  wholesome  and  de 
licious  food,  needful  and  effectual  shelter.'  • 
.  Heat  is  the  principle  of  fire,  under  whateA'-er  modification 
it  may  appear  ;  and  nothing  can  be  more  worthy  of  admira' 
tion,  than  the  fact,  that  an  element  of  such  tremendous  power, 
whose  operations  are  on  so  vast  a  scale,  and  whose  mastery 
is  so  fearful,  should  yet  be  capable  of  being  subjected  to  the 
service  of  man,  in  the  most  menial  offices,  and,  in  that  capa- 
city, should  become  so  mild  and  tractable.  What  human 
mind  in  the  wildest  flights  of  its  fancy,  could,  previous  to  ex- 
perience, have  conceived  the  existence  of  an  agent,  which  ap- 
pals nature  with  its  angry  roar,  and,  rending  the  clouds, 
darts  in  livid  bolts  from  heaven  to  earth,  or  uprears  moun- 
tains in  its  throes,  and,  opening  the  solid  crust  of  the  globe, 
overwhelms  whole  regions  with  torrents  of  melted  rock, 
poured  forth  like  water ;  or,  more  amazing  still,  which  dis- 
plays its  might  and  glory,  in  shedding  the  effulgence  of  day 
over  the  smiling  earth,  and  regulating  the  changes  of  the 
seasons,  and  calling  the  wonders  of  vegetation  from  the  solid 
land,  while  it  causes  the  liquid  seas  to  flow, — which  performs 
all  these  wonders,  and  a  thousand  more,  and  yet  is  so  entirely 
under  the  control  of  man,  and  so  subservient  to  his  use,  that 
it  remains  meekly  glimmering  amidst  smouldering  ashes  in 
the  grate,  ready  at  his  command,  to  cheer  and  enlighten  his 
winter  evenings,  by  blazing  from  a  taper,  or  to  employ  its 
obsequious  powers,  for  whatever  purpose  of  culinary  prepara- 
tion, or  of  genial  warmth,  his  necessities  or  enjoyments  may 
require.  What  amazing  power  and  wisdom  is  here,  tem- 
pered, not  less  wonderfully,  with  all  the  tender  condescension 
of  Paternal  kindness ! 


ADAPTATION  TO  THE  SEASON.  297 


TENTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

111.    MAN   IN     WINTER. ADAPTATION     OF     HIS    CONSTITUTION     TO 

THE   SEASON. 

Besides  the  adaptation  of  external  nature  to  the  protection 
of  man  from  the  severities  of  winter,  we  have  another  proof 
of  beneficent  intention  in  the  adaptation  of  the  human  consti- 
tution itself  to  the  endurance  of  these  severities.  All  animals 
are  more  or  less  endowed  with  this  power  of  accomodation,  yet 
none  so  much  as  those  which  are  destined  to  be  the  companions 
and  the  aids  of  man  ;  and  man  himself,  assisted  by  the  con- 
trivances which  his  intellectual  powers  suggest,  stands  in 
this  respect  pre-eminent  above  them  all.  It  was  consistent 
with  the,-  beneficent  intentions  of  the  Creator,  that  the  only 
rational  race  of  beings  on  our  globe,  should  be  dispersed  over 
every  climate,  and  should  carry  intelligence  and  mental  en- 
joyment, and  a  heart  capable  of  feeling  and  acknowledging 
the  Almighty  Benefactor,  into  every  corner  of  the  earth. 
We  accordingly  find,  that  the  human  frame  can  exist,  not 
only  under  the  vertical  sun  of  the  tropics,  but  under  the 
chilling  blasts  and  wide-spread  snows  of  the  Polar  regions. 

It  may  be  difficult  for  the  physiologist  to  discover  in  what 
this  power  of  accommodation  lies  ;  but,  that  it  does  actually 
exist  in  a  remarkable  degree,  the  slightest  acquaintance  with 
the  history  and  condition  of  the  human  race  demonstrates. 
Every  climate,  indeed,  and  almost  every  country,  exhibits 
some  peculiarity  in  the  constitution,  and  even  in  the  external 
appearance,  of  the  inhabitants,  which  indicates  this  power. 
The  well  known  varieties  in  the  colour  of  the  skin,  with  its 
difl^erent  shades  of  white,  yellow,  red,  brown,  and  black,  is 
an  example  of  this.  The  colour  of  the  eyes,  and  of  the  hair, 
and  the  shape  of  the  nose,  the  cheek-bones,  and  the  lips,  are 
other  familiar  instances  of  a  distinction  of  races  in  connexion 
with  food  and  climate,  as  well  as  other  local  circumstances. 
I  mention  these  as  mere  indications,  for  I  do  not  know  how 


•.^98  MAN   IN    WINTER. 

far,  or  in  what  respects,  any  of  them  contribute  to  the  accom- 
modation in  question.  But  the  profuse  perspiration  of  the  Ne- 
gro, under  the  heat  of  the  tropics,  and  the  stunted  growth,  and 
thick-set  form  of  the  Laplander,  and  native  of  Greenland, 
where  food  is  scanty,  and  the  cold  intense,  are  less  equivocal 
marks  of  wise  and  benevolent  design.  The  perspiration 
diminishes  the  heat  of  the  one,  while  the  concentrated  frame 
of  the  other  preserves  the  animal  warmth  ;  and,  while  it 
probably  increases  the  bodily  strength,  and  thus  gives  addi- 
tional power  both  of  exertion  and  endurance,  affords  the 
faculty  of  existence  on  a  diminished  quantity  of  food.  The 
state  of  the  Negro  is  well  known,  and  therefore  need  not  be 
dwelt  on  ;  but,  as  the  condition  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Polar 
regions  is  less  familiar  to  the  public,  and  comes  more  imme- 
diately under  our  present  subject,  it  may  be  proper  to  show 
how  far  the  view  we  have  taken  of  their  bodily  constitution 
corresponds  with  their  known  habits  and  powers.  Gold- 
smith, following  Buffon,  gives  a  most  unamiable  account  of 
the  personal  appearance  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  inhospita- 
ble countries,  including,  under  one  description,  the  Laplan- 
ders, the  Esquimaux  Indians,  the  Samaoid  Tartars,  the 
natives  of  Nova  Zembla,  the  Borandians,  the  Greenlanders, 
and  the  Kamtschatkans.  His  description  of  their  habits, 
however,  shows  them  to  be  powerful,  active,  and  patient  of 
fatigue,  cold,  and  hunger,  to  a  remarkable  degree.  Speaking 
of  the  Laplanders,  he  says, '  They  make  use  of  skates,  which 
are  made  of  fir,  of  nearly  three  feet  long,  and  a  half  broad. 
With  these  they  skate  on  the  icy  snow,  and  with  such  a 
velocity,  that  they  very  easily  overtake  the  swiftest  animals. 
With  these  skates  they  descend  the  steepest  mountains,  and 
scale  the  most  craggy  precipices ;  and,  in  such  exercises,  the 
women  are  not  less  skilful  than  the  men.  They  have  also 
the  use  of  the  bow  and  arrow,  which  seems  to  be  a  contri- 
vance common  to  all  barbarous  nations ;  and  which,  how- 
ever, at  first  require  no  small  skill  to  invent.  They  launch 
a  javelin  also  with  great  force,  and  some  say  that  they  can 


ADAFfATION   TO    THE    SEASON.  299 

hit  a  mark  no  larger  than  a  crown,  at  thirty  yards  distance, 
and  with  such  force  as  would  pierce  a  man  through.' 

In  reference  to  the  whole  race  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  ex- 
treme north,  this  author  observes,  that,  '  in  proportion  as  we 
approach  the  pole,  the  size  of  the  natives  appears  to  diminish, 
growing  less  and  less  as  we  advance  higher,  till  we  come  to 
those  latitudes  that  are  destitute  of  all  inhabitants  whatever ;' 
and  then  he  adds  the  following  interesting  and  characteristic 
account : — 

'  The  wretched  natives  of  these  climates  seem  fitted  by 
nature  to  endure  the  rigours  of  their  situation.  As  their  food 
is  but  scanty  and  precarious,  their  patience  in  hunger  is 
amazing.  A  man  who  has  eaten  nothing  for  four  days  can 
manage  his  little  canoe  in  the  most  furious  waves,  and  calmly 
subsist  in  the  midst  of  a  tempest  that  would  quickly  dash  a 
European  boat  to  pieces.  Their  strength  is  not  less  amazing 
than  their  patience.  A  woman  among  them,  will  carry  a  piece 
of  timber,  or  a  stone,  nearly  double  the  weight  of  what  a 
European  can  lift.' 

This  general  statement,  which  is  intended  to  apply  to 
several  distinct  tribes,  is  probably  pretty  accurate,  so  far  as  it 
goes,  though  perhaps  somewhat  overcharged.  Recent  voy- 
ages and  travels  have  made  us  better  acquainted  with  the 
people  of  those  regions,  and  some  interesting  facts,  both  with 
regard  to  the  character  of  the  inhabitants,  and  their  mode  of 
life,  have  come  to  light,  as  well  as  with  regard  to  the  pecu- 
liarities of  soil  and  climate,  and  the  nature  of  animal  and 
vegetable  productions,  of  which,  in  a  few  subsequent  papers, 
we  shall  avail  ourselves.  Meanwhile,  the  reader  cannot  fail 
to  be  struck  with  the  peculiar  arrangements  by  which  the 
most  rigorous  climates  are  accommodated  to  the  subsistence 
of  man  ;  or  to  perceive,  in  these  arrangements,  the  most  dis- 
tinct traces  of  an  Intelligent  Designer.  It  is  true  that,  in  the 
extremes  both  of  heat  and  cold,  there  seems  to  be  something 
unfriendly  to  the  development  of  the  mental  powers ;  but 
still  it  is  cheering  and  instructive  to  see  every  where  provision 
made  for  that  rational  being,  whom,  of  all  his  sublunary 


300  PROVIDENCE   OF   GOD. 

works,  the  Creator  has  endowed  with  facuhies  capable  of 
discerning  Himself,  and  offering  up  the  thanksgivings  of 
creation. 


ELEVENTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

THE   UNCEASING   AND   UNIVERSAL    PROVIDENCE    OF   GOD. 

There  are  many  associations  connected  with  this  season 
of  the  year,  which  lead  the  religious  mind  to  look  back  on 
past  events,  as  well  as  forward  to  the  future,  in  reference  to 
the  operations  of  that  Divine  Being  in  whom  we  live  and 
move.  In  contemplating  these,  we  see  a  thousand  things 
which,  even  to  our  diminutive  understandings,  appear  to  be 
insignificant,  and  a  thousand  more  which  seem  to  have  hap- 
pened contrary  to  reasonable  expectations.  Such  considera- 
tions induce  us  to  inquire,  if  it  be  indeed  true  that  a  God  of 
infinite  perfection  presides  over  these  events,  and  occupies 
Himself  with  the  minute  concerns  of  the  little  world  we  in- 
habit.    The  inquiry  is  at  all  times  interesting. 

It  has  already  been  remarked,  that  the  perfections  of  the 
Godhead  are  manifested,  not  only  in  the  large  and  magnifi- 
cent scale  of  operations  to  which  the  view  of  the  starry  heav- 
ens introduces  us,  but  just  as  clearly  and  convincingly  in  the 
smaller,  and,  to  our  limited  apprehensions,  less  important, 
arrangements  of  our  terrestrial  globe.  Numerous  evidences 
of  this  truth  have  come  under  our  notice,  in  the  compensa- 
tions, adjustments,  and  contrivances,  by  which  the  general 
welfare  of  living  beings  is  provided  for,  even  in  the  bleak 
season  of  winter,  and  under  circumstances  apparently  the 
most  unfavourable. 

Nor  is  it  in  created  objects  themselves  alone,  but  in  their 
daily  history  also,  that  the  same  character  is  to  be  perceived ; 
for  the  God  who  made,  continues  to  preserve  His  creatures ; 
and  the  same  Hand,  which  wheels  the  planets  in  their  orbits, 
and  orders  and  arranges  their  daily  positions,  and  their  mu- 


PROVIDENCE   OF    GOD. 


301 


tual  attractions,  is  as  divinely  occupied  in  preserving  the  vari- 
ous races  of  His  terrestrial  offspring,  and  in  directing  the  dai- 
ly occurrences  by  which  their  individual  experience  is  dis- 
tinguished. 

That  the  Almighty  watches  over  each  of  the  beings  He 
has  made,  and  appoints  its  situation  and  its  history,  in  all 
their  varied  vicissitudes,  seems  to  follow  from  the  fact,  that 
He  at  first  saw  fit  to  create  it ;  for,  to  imagine  that  God 
should  have  formed  any  creature,  without  having  previously 
arranged  the  uses  to  which  it  should  be  put,  the  place  it  should 
occupy  in  the  economy  of  creation,  and  the  mode  by  which 
it  should  contribute  to  the  advancement  of  his  glory,  is  just 
to  suppose  Him  such  a  one  as  ourselves, — ignorant  and  un- 
steady, fluctuating  in  his  designs,  and  capricious  in  his  con- 
duct. Nor  does  the  meanness  of  any  of  the  creatures  afTect 
the  question.  The  fact  that  it  has  been  esteemed  worthy  to 
be  made,  establishes  the  other  fact,  that,  so  long  as  it  exists, 
its  movements  and  its  history  must  be  ordered  and  superin- 
tended by  God  ;  and  that  the  least  noticed  and  most  ordinary 
occurrences  connected  with  it,  are  under  His  control.  It 
requires,  for  this  minute  care  and  superintendence,  no  greater 
condescension,  than  for  its  original  formation  ;  and,  if  it  be 
granted  that  God  is  not  degraded  by  the  latter,  it  is  inconsis- 
tent to  imagine  any  degradation  to  attach  to  the  former. 

To  every  argument,  therefore,  used  to  support  an  opposite 
conclusion,  it  were  enough  to  reply,  that,  as  it  is  God's  to  cre- 
ate, so  it  is  His  to  uphold ;  and,  though  to  some  of  the  crea- 
tures have  been  assigned  a  nobler  place  and  a  higher  destiny 
than  to  others,  the  meanest,  as  well  as  the  most  exalted,  must 
receive  from  God  whatever  care  is  necessary  to  enable  them 
to  fulfil  the  designs  for  which  they  were  created.  The  seraph 
has  his  place  assigned  amid  the  glories  of  the  celestial  palace, 
where  he  is  forever  and  ever  hymning  the  praises  of  his 
Creator.  The  pebble  of  the  brook,  whether  it  lies  perpetu- 
ally unnoticed  among  the  stones  in  which  it  was  originally 
imbedded,  or  serves,  in  the  hand  of  one  under  the  Divine 
guidance,  like  that  used  by  the  stripling  David,  to  smite  an 

VOL.  rv.  26 


302  PROVIDENCE    OF    GOD. 

enemy  of  God  in  the  forehead,  has  been  made,  and  has  had 
its  place  assigned,  by  the  same  infinite  Jehovah.  Both  are 
equally  the  property  of  God,  and  each,  in  its  own  allotted 
place,  is  equally  well  suited  for  the  ends  for  which  it  was  in- 
tended. Both,  therefore,  are  under  the  care  of  God,  and  each 
will  be  so  ordered  and  guided  as  to  promote  His  eternal  de- 
signs. That  view  of  God's  providence,  which,  affecting  to 
place  Him  above  the  contemplation  or  the  care  of  His  crea- 
tures, however  small  or  insignificant  they  may  appear  to  us, 
divests  Him  of  the  glory  attending  the  daily  preservation  of  so 
many  minute  wonders,  can  only  be  adopted  by  one  whose 
ideas  of  value  are  formed  on  the  gross  supposition,  that  bulk 
constitutes  importance,  and  whose  intellect  is  incapable  of 
grasping  the  fact,  that  to  the  mind  of  God,  whatever  we  can 
perceive  of  the  vast  and  magnificent  in  creation,  is  but,  after 
all,  a  point,  requiring  for  its  maintenance  no  greater  trouble 
or  care  at  His  hands,  than  the  little  fly  which  dances  in  the 
sunbeam,  or  the  inanimate  clod  which  we  tread  beneath  our 
feet. 

From  this  doctrine  may  be  deduced  a  sufficiently  obvious, 
and  no  less  important  lesson, — a  lesson  of  faith  and  depen- 
dence on  that  God  by  whom  all  things  are  arranged  and 
governed.  If  even  the  tiniest  insect  is  thus  under  His  care, 
how  much  reason  have  we  to  feel  satisfied  that  He  will  care 
for  us.  Such  was  the  instruction  deduced  by  our  blessed 
Lord  from  the  same  subject: — 'Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
for  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns  ; 
yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much 
better  than  they?  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they 
groAv  ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin.  And  yet  I  say 
unto  you,  that  Sdlomon,  in  all  his  glory,  was  not  arrayed 
like  one  of  these.  If  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field, 
which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall  He 
not  much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ?' 

The  providential  care  manifested  towards  us  by  our  Cre- 
ator, is  shown  not  only  in  the  greater  and  more  important 
events,  but  in  every  circumstance  by  which  our  lot  is  varied, 


PROVIDENCE    OF    GOD.  303 

however  minute,  or  however  trivial ; — in  the  casual  meeting 
of  a  friend,  which  seems  to  lead  to  nothing,  as  well  as  in  the 
circumstances  immediately  connected  with  our  birth,  our 
conversation,  our  marriage,  or  our  death.  This  will  be  the 
more  readily  granted,  when  it  is  perceived  that  the  distinc- 
tion between  trifling  and  important  events  cannot  be  accu- 
rately made  by  us,  and  that  those  which  would  generally  be 
classed  among  the  former,  are  very  frequently  the  fruitful 
parents  of  the  most  momentous  occurrences. 

We  need  not  go  far  for  an  illustration  of  this  subject.  It 
is  a  point,  for  example,  in  undisputed  history,  that  Mahom- 
med,  when  pursued  by  his  enemies,  ere  his  religion  had 
gained  a  footing  in  the  world,  took  refuge  in  a  certain  cave. 
To  the  mouth  of  this  retreat,  his  pursuers  traced  him ;  but 
when  they  were  on  the  very  point  of  entering,  their  attention 
was  arrested  by  a  little  bird  starting  from  an  adjoining  thicket. 
Had  it  not  been  for  this  circumstance,  the  most  trivial  that 
can  well  be  conceived,  which  convinced  them  that  there  the 
fugitive  could  not  be  concealed,  Mahommed  would  have  been 
discovered,  and  he  and  his  imposture  must,  have  perished  to- 
gether. As  it  was,  he  effected  his  escape,  gained  the  protec- 
tion of  his  friends,  and,  by  the  most  artful  course  of  conduct, 
succeeded  in  laying  the  foundation  of  a  religion  which  now 
prevails  over  a  large  portion  of  the  world,  and  numbers 
among  its  votaries  the  inhabitants  of  lands,  neither  insignifi- 
cant in  the  map  of  the  world,  nor  unimportant  in  their  po- 
litical relations.  Thus,  to  the  flight  of  a  sparrow  may  be 
traced  the  establishment  of  a  delusion  whose  morat  influence 
has  been  deeply  felt  in  the  world  for  more  than  one  millen- 
nium already,  and  which  will  probably  continue  to  exert  a 
baneful  effect  on  the  character  of  many  a  people,  till  the  very 
eve  of  that  blessed  period,  when  the  kingdoms  of  this  world 
shall  become  the  kingdoms  of  the  Lord,  and  of  his  Christ. 

If  an  occurrence  such  as  this  has  been  so  fruitful  of  events, 
to  what  circumstance  shall  we  venture  to  give  the  name  of 
trifling  ?  Does  not  the  history  of  every  one  of  us  testify  to 
the  influence  of  the  very  smallest  and  most  unheeded  of  the 


304  PROVIDENCE    OF    GOD. 

occurrences  by  which  it  has  been  marked  ?  Has  not  the 
falling  of  a  leaf,  or  the  waving  of  a  branch  moved  by  the 
gentle  breath  of  heaven,  suggested  a  thought,  or  led  to  a  re- 
solution fraught  with  important  consequences  to  our  future 
lives?  And  who  can  tell  the  thousand,  thousand  links,  mi- 
nute and  unremembered,  that  have  every  one  been  necessary, 
in  its  own  place,  to  bring  about  the  end  which  has  at  length 
occurred, — the  strange  coincidents,  the  apparently  accidental 
events,  the  meetings,  the  surprises,  the  conversations,  the  re- 
flections, the  very  moods  of  mind  which  have  entered  into 
the  composition  of  the  final  act,  and  which,  had  any  one  of 
them  been  different,  even  though  that  one  had  been  the  least 
noticed  among  the  preparatory  steps,  must  have  led  to  a  dif- 
ferent result. 

And,  then,  as  to  the  importance  of  the  chief  events  in  the 
life  of  the  humblest  citizen,  who  can  tell  what  an  influence 
these  may  indirectly  exercise  over  the  happiness  of  his  neigh- 
bourhood, or  the  fate  of  his  country,  or  the  destiny  of  the 
world?  Had  Hampden's  spirit  never  been  excited  by  the  in- 
justice of  his  rulers,  who  can  tell  what  form  of  tyranny 
might  now  have  been  swaying  the  sceptre  of  our  native 
land  ?  and  had  Britain  at  that  era  slept  on  in  her  chains,  in- 
stead of  shaking  off'  the  yoke  of  her  oppressors,  who  can 
say  whether  any  nation  in  the  world  would  at  this  moment 
have  been  free  ? 

Thus  constant,  thus  minute,  is  the  providential  care  of 
God.  As  He  is  wise,  let  us  look  to  Him  for  the  ultimate  ad- 
justment of  whatever  appears  to  our  short-sighted  vision 
either  distorted  or  unworthy  of  Hi's  character.  As  He  is 
good,  let  us  entertain  the  confidence,  that  they  who  serve  Him 
in  the  gospel  of  his  dear  Son,  shall  be  brought  through  all 
the  vicissitudes  of  their  earthly  history,  to  the  eternal  man- 
sions at  last,  and  that,  dark  as  the  experience  of  his  saints 
may  be.  He  will  cause  all  things  to  work  together  for  their 
real  good.  G.  J.  C.  D. 


INHABITANTS    OF   THE    POLAR   REGIONS.  305 

ELEVENTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

I.    ON    THE    INHABITANTS    OP    THE    POLAR    REGIONS. 

We  are  naturally  led,  from  the  contemplation  of  man  in 
winter,  to  view  him  placed  by  the  hand  of  Providence  amid 
the  horrors  of  the  Frozen  Zone,  where  summer  hardly  ever 
penetrates,  even  in  its  least  striking  characteristics ;  where 
the  solar  heat  is  barely  sufficient  to  dissolve  for  a  few  months 
the  snow  on  the  lower  grounds,  or  the  southern  slopes,  and 
to  awaken  the  vegetable  world  to  so  languid  a  life,  that  even 
the  hardier  tribes  of  herbivorous  animals  find  but  a  meagre 
subsistence.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conjecture  any  induce- 
ment which  could  have  led  originally  to  the  voluntary  occu- 
pation by  man  of  so  inhospitable  and  sterile  an  abode ;  and 
we  are  almost  constrained  to  rest  on  the  idea,  that,  in  the  ac- 
complishment of  the  Divine  intention  of  peopling  the  globe, 
the  Supreme  Governor  has  urged  mankind,  by  some  mysteri- 
ous impulse,  independent  of  his  natural  inclinations.  Fur- 
nished with  a  power  of  accommodation  to  all  climates,  and 
aided  and  prompted,  no  doubt,  by  circumstances,  man  has  of- 
ten unconsciously  fulfilled  the  first  comm.and  of  his  Creator, 
'  Be  fruitful,  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth.'  Issuing 
from  the  Plain  of  Shinar,  to  every  point  of  the  compass,  the 
human  race,  after  filling  up  the  fertile  regions  of  the  Asiatic 
continent,  radiated  thence  towards  all  the  quarters  of  the 
globe  ;  till,  after  the  lapse  of  ages,  they  brought  the  most  in- 
hospitable regions,  and  most  distant  islands,  under  their  do- 
minion. In  this  process  of  dispersion,  even  the  wastes  of  Si- 
beria, and  the  snowy  deserts  of  Boothia  Felix,  received  a  por- 
tion of  the  human  family.  God,  by  whom  they  were  con- 
ducted, and  who  had  implanted  within  them  an  indomitable 
perseverance,  and  an  amazing  versatility  of  mind,  had  also 
prepared  for  them,  even  there,  the  means  of  subsistence  ;  and, 
though  hardships  were  to  be  encountered,  and  difficulties  to 
be  overcome,  of  which  the  inhabitants  of  more  favoured 
26* 


306  INHABITANTS    oF    THE    POLAR    REGIONS. 

climes  were  ignorant,  there  was  spread  for  them,  in  the  vari- 
ous kingdoms  of  Nature,  a  provision  ample  enough  to  satisfy- 
all  their  real  wants. 

In  illustrating- this  subject,  I  shall  turn  my  attention  exclu- 
sively to  the  state  and  character  of  those  nations  who  are 
known  by  the  general  name  of  Esquimaux,  and  who  dwell 
in  the  most  northerly  regions  hitherto  explored,  I  mean  the 
higher  latitudes  of  the  continent  of  America.  Consulting 
those  enterprising  adventurers  who  have  in  later  years  pene- 
trated the  frozen  seas,  or  wintered  among  the  snows  and 
storms  of  this  extreme  portion  of  the  world,  we  shall  thus  be 
brought  to  understand  how  ample  are  the  resources  of  Pro- 
vidence, even  in  the  very  coldest  portions  of  the  world  ;  and, 
much  more,  how  rich  must  be  the  provision  made  by  the 
Creator  in  countries  where  the  frost  is  less  intense,  and  the 
rigours  of  the  climate  less  severe.  We  shall  find  that  objects 
which,  in  temperate  latitudes  like  ours,  are  regarded  as  use- 
less or  troublesome,  are  there  capable  of  being  turned  to  the 
most  valuable  account ;  that  the  snow,  for  example,  which,  to 
the  delicate  foot  of  the  luxurious  European,  is  cold,  and  cum- 
bersome, and  disagreeable,  grows  in  importance  as  we  travel 
towards  this  ultimate  corner  of  the  earth.  In  the  backv/oods 
of  Canada,  during  the  grim  reign  of  winter,  it  affords  the 
only  means  of  transporting  the  produce  of  the  land  ;  and, 
what  is  very  remarkable,  forms  a  hard  and  easy  path  for  this 
purpose,  at  the  very  season  when  the  convenience  of  the  ag- 
riculturist demands  it.  But,  in  the  native  country  of  the  Es- 
quimaux, we  shall  find  its  value  greatly  enhanced,  affording 
shelter  and  warmth,  as  well  as  facilities  of  easy  transit.  It  is 
true,  we  shall  not  discover,  in  these  wild  and  miserable  dis- 
tricts, accommodations  either  so  choice  or  so  convenient  as  in 
temperate  regions :  nor  will  our  general  argument  thereby 
be  weakened.  God,  who  has  arranged  the  various  conditions 
of  the  different  orders  of  His  creatures,  has  kindly  bestowed 
upon  some  advantages  which  he  has  seen  meet  to  withhold 
from  others ;  and,  while  we  perceive  that  this  is  but  consis- 
tent with  the  general  system  of  His  providence  throughout 


INHABITANTS   OP   THE   POLAR   REGIONS.  307 

our  degenerate  world,  it  is  enough  for  us  to  know,  that,  even 
amid  the  blackness  and  horrors  of  an  Arctic  winter,  we  can 
find  ample  reason  to  adore  that  goodness,  which,  under  cir- 
cumstances apparently  hopeless,  has  proved  a  sufficiency  for 
the  sustenance  of  a  considerable  portion  of  His  rational 
creatures. 

The  grand  necessities  of  that  remote  people,  then,  may  be 
considered  under  the  several  heads  of  Food,  Clothing,  Dwell- 
ings, Fire,  and  Light. 

1.  The  daily  food  of  the  Esquimaux,  as  may  well  be  sup- 
posed, is  not  directly  derived  from  the  soil.  The  land,  per- 
haps in  itself  sterile,  and  at  all  events  incapable,  from  the  se- 
verity of  the  climate,  of  yielding  a  remunerating  return  for 
its  cultivation,  lies  undisturbed  by  the  hand  of  man,  in  all  its 
original  barrenness.  Its  spontaneous  productions  are  few 
and  of  small  value. 

On  the  melting  of  the  snow,  the  surface  of  the  earth  is 
found  clothed  with  a  stunted  herbage,  consisting  chiefly  of 
short  coarse  grass,  affording  a  sufficient  meal  to  the  tribes  of 
animals,  which,  during  the  winter  months,  had  migrated  to  less 
sterile  countries,  but  offering  little  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
the  human  appetite,  and  still  less  to  provoke  the  indulgence 
of  a  luxurious  taste.  A  few  of  the  vegetable  productions, 
indeed,  are  occasionally  employed  by  the  natives ;  but  they 
are  neither  depended  on  as  necessaries  of  life,  nor  cultivated 
for  domestic  purposes.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  hardy 
natives  are  driven  to  the  resources  afforded  by  the  animal 
productions  with  which,  happily,  their  country  abounds.  Of 
these  we  may  mention  several  of  the  more  remarkable.  The 
smaller  species  of  rein-deer  which,  in  summer,  are  found  in 
considerable  numbers  over  the  most  northerly  districts  of 
America,  and  even  among  the  islands  of  the  Arctic  Ocean, 
where  they  arrive  in  spring  by  crossing  the  yet  unbroken 
ice,  offer  them  a  delicious  banquet.  These  animals  are 
tracked  through  the  snow  with  that  zeal  and  perseverance 
which  generally  characterize  the  hunting  excursions  of  a  bar- 
barous people ;  and,  notwithstanding  their  proverbial  fleet- 


308  INHABITANTS    OF    THE    POLAR   REGIONS. 

ness,  fall  victims,  in  great  numbers,  to  the  sure  aim  of  the 
Esquimaux  archers.  The  musk-ox  is  an  animal  peculiar  to 
very  cold  and  inhospitable  latitudes  ;  and  though,  being  some- 
times of  a  savage  temper,  he  needs  to  be  approached  with 
caution,  is  constantly  pursued,  as  affording  a  principal  article 
of  food.  At  certain  seasons,  indeed,  its  flesh  possesses  a  very 
strong  and  unpleasant  flavour  of  that  odorous  production 
from  which  its  name  is  derived ;  but,  in  general,  it  is  highly 
palatable,  and  has  often  been  eaten  with  relish  by  Europeans, 
who  describe  it  as  very  similar  in  taste  to  beef  To  these 
may  be  added  the  hare,  the  wolf,  and  the  fox  ;  the  two  last 
of  which  are  caught  in  ingenious  traps,  baited  with  fish,  or 
any  sort  of  animal  garbage,  and  are  readily  attracted  to  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  snare,  by  setting  fire  to  a  little,  rancid 
oil  or  refuse  fat.  The  flesh  of  the  fox-,  strange  as  it  may  ap- 
pear, is  not  only  much  esteemed  by  the  Esquimaux,  but 
even  by  European  travellers,  who,  when  fresh  provisions 
were  scarce,  have  often  partaken  of  it  with  relish.  In  addi- 
tion to  these  quadrupeds,  it  need  hardly  be  remarked,  that 
the  Esquimaux  are  furnished,  by  the  hand  of  their  bountiful 
Creator,  with  an  immense  and  most  valuable  supply  of  fish. 
The  enormous  whale  and  the  delicious  salmon,  the  walrus 
and  the  seal,  are  all  made  tributary  to  their  daily  necessities. 
They  have  exerted  their  ingenuity  in  the  preparation  of  the 
staves,  the  spears,  and  other  instruments  employed  in  their 
capture  ;  and  these,  though  far  indeed  from  the  perfection 
exhibited  in  the  tackle  of  a  European,  manifest  a  greater 
share  of  the  inventive  faculties  than  we  could  easily  have  be- 
lieved to  belong  to  so  rude  and  ungainly  a  people. 

The  immense  quantity  of  fish  taken  and  preserved  by 
them,  every  season,  for  the  supply  of  their  winter  necessities, 
almost  exceeds  our  belief  But  the  contemplation  of  the 
exuberant  abundance  which  their  stores  supply,  while  it  leads 
to  the  conclusion,  that  no  portion  of  the  globe  is  so  wild  or 
inhospitable  as  to  be  destitute  of  proofs  of  the  care  and  rich 
bounty  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  awakens  within  us  a  senti- 
ment of  adoration,  as  well  as  of  astonishment.  '  The  earth 
is  full  of  his  goodness.'  G.  J.  C.  D. 


FOOD   AND    CLOTHING.  309 


ELEVENTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

n.  ON  THE  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  TOLAR  REGIONS. FOOD  AND 

CLOTIHNG. 

It  is  generally  admitted  by  physiologists,  that  the  activity 
of  the  human  body,  in  the  generation  of  internal  heat,  though 
dependent,  in  a  great  degree,  on  the  original  constitution,  is 
powerfully  affected  by  the  quality,  as  well  as  the  quantity, 
of  the  food  consumed.  It  would  moreover  appear,  that,  to 
excite  the  heating  powers  of  the  living  principle  in  man, 
there  is  nothing  found  by  experience  so  valuable  as  an  oily 
diet.  In  temperate  regions,  this  fact  is  recognized  by  medi- 
cal men,  in  cases  of  protracted  rheumatism,  in  which  the  re- 
gular use  of  the  oil  extracted  from  the  liver  of  the  cod,  is 
found  highly  beneficial  in  bracing  the  system  to  resist  the 
effects  of  external  cold,  and  enabling  it,  by  an  increased  ac- 
tion, to  banish  the  gnawing  pains  of  that  distressing  com- 
plaint. Any  one  can  tell  how  much,  on  exposure  to  the 
cold  of  a  winter  day  in  our  own  climate,  hunger  increases 
the  chilly  sensations  of  the  body,  and  how  much  comfort  a 
sufficiency  of  animal  food  is  calculated  to  afford.  A  meagre 
diet  is  best  adapted  to  a  warm  climate  or  season,  agreeing 
well  with  the  relaxed  state  of  the  body  under  a  tropical  sun, 
or  the  parching  heats  of  summer ;  but  affording  no  defence 
against  the  bitter  effects  of  a  severe  frost.  I  believe  it  has 
been  frequently  remarked  by  persons  familiar  with  the  Polar 
Seas,  that  sailors  of  a  full  habit  of  body,  a  sanguine  tempera- 
ment, and  a  florid  complexion,  if  in  good  health,  are  the  least 
affected  by  the  feeling  of  severe  cold  ;  and  these  are  just  the 
men  most  generally  addicted  to  eating  considerable  portions 
of  animal  food.  A  thin  and  bilious  person,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  eats  sparingly,  and  loathes  a  large  portion  of  fat  or  oily 
substances,  finds  it  painful  to  be  long  exposed  to  the  chilling 
influence  of  a  northern  sky.  How  remarkable  an  example 
of  Providential  care,  then,  does  it  appear,  that,  in  those  very 


310  rNHABITANTS    OF    THE    POLAR   REGIONS. 

regions  where  the  internal  heat  of  the  body  needs  most  to  be 
excited,  an  inexhaustible  supply  exists,  of  the  very  description 
of  food  best  suited  to  the  purpose  ;  and  that,  where  the  warmth 
of  a  summer  sun  never  summons  from  the  chilled  and  be- 
numbed earth  a  vegetable  provision  for  the  calls  of  the  human 
appetite,  there  should  be  found — what  is  far  better — the  oils 
and  the  fat  with  which  the  Arctic  province  of  the  animal 
kingdom  so  peculiarly  abounds.  Nor,  must  it  be  forgotten, 
that  with  this  abundance  there  also  exists  a  relish,  on  the  part 
of  the  inhabitants,  for  substances,  the  mere  odour  of  which, 
in  the  chamber  where  they  are  to  be  partaken  of,  is  sufficient 
to  expel  with  disgust  a  native  of  this  country.  The  incredi- 
ble quantity  of  this  description  of  food,  rancid  as  it  is,  which 
an  Esquimaux  is  capable  of  devouring  at  a  meal,  has  aston- 
ished the  Europeans  by  whom  it  has  been  witnessed.  Twen- 
ty pounds  of  salmon,  for  instance,  is  stated  as  no  uncommon 
quantity  to  be  devoured  by  an  individual  at  a  single  meal. 
Excess,  indeed,  is  followed,  among  them,  as  well  as  in  more 
civilized  nations,  with  its  own  punishment ;  but  there  can  be 
no  doubt,  that  the  cold  of  these  regions  is  materially  deprived 
of  its  painful  effects  on  the  human  frame  by  eating  as  largely 
as  nature  will  easily  permit ;  so  that  the  tendency  to  make  a 
full  meal,  which  is  universally  exhibited  among  them,  and  is 
no  doubt  a  part  of  their  constitution,  must  be  looked  upon  as 
•a  collateral  provision  of  the  same  wise  over-ruling  Power, 
liable  indeed  to  abuse,  but,  when  rightly  regulated,  calculated 
to  promote  the  welfare  of  this  remote  people. 

2.  The  clothing  of  the  Arctic  tribes,  and  especially  of  the 
Esquimaux,  is  almost  entirely  composed  of  furs.  Providence, 
which  has  kindly  adapted  the  coats  of  the  lower  animals  in 
these  regions,  to  the  rigours  of  their  climate,  has  thus,  at  the 
same  time,  brought  within  the  reach  of  man  the  means  of  a 
warm  exterior  defence  from  the  cold  to  which  he  is  exposed. 

Neither  the  flannels  of  more  civilized  countries  nor  the 
skins  of  more  southern  climates,  are  at  all  to  be  compared  to 
the  valuable  clothing  with  which,  by  the  same  exertion  and 
ingenuity  which  are  requisite  to  procure  their  food,  they  are 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING.  311 

furnished,  among  the  hills  and  islands  of  their  icy  homes. 
The  long  hair,  which  gives  to  the  white  bear  and  musk-ox 
their  shaggy  aspect ;  the  rough  coat  of  the  rein-deer,  the  hare, 
and  the  fox, — cover  a  close  warm  downy  inner  garment  of 
fur,  rendered  thicker  by  the  first  severe  onset  of  winter,  which 
effectually  preserves  the  animal,  for  which  it  was  originally 
provided,  from  the  intensity  of  the  northern  storms ;  and, 
when  snatched  from  its  first  owner  by  the  lord  of  the  lower 
world,  affords  to  him  a  similar  protection.  Clothed  in  a  dou- 
ble garment  of  deer-skin,  encircling  the  body,  and  reaching  in 
front  from  the  chin  to  the  middle  of  the  thigh,  and  behind  to 
the  calf  of  the  leg,  with  sleeves  so  long  as  to  cover  the  points 
of  the  fingers  ;  with  the  hair  of  the  inner  garment,  as  a  warm 
exciting  covering,  next  the  body,  and  that  of  the  outer  one, 
from  its  roughness,  extremely  unfavourable  to  the  radiation 
of  heat,  in  the  reverse  direction  ;  his  limbs  protected  by  two 
pairs  of  boots,  and,  above  these,  trowsers  of  the  skin  of  the 
seal  or  of  the  deer, — an  Esquimaux  can  endure,  without  dan- 
ger or  inconvenience,  a  degree  of  cold,  to  which  we,  in  this 
temperate  zone,  are  utter  strangers.  Nor  are  we  to  imagine 
that  the  piercing  climate,  which  has  imposed  the  necessity 
for  such  defences,  has  had  any  effect  in  souring  the  disposi- 
tion, or  lessening  the  enjoyment  of  this  singular  race.  On 
the  contrary,  they  have  generally  been  found  remarkable  for 
their  good  humour  and  easy  temper.  Their  very  dresses, 
frequently  ornamented  with  fringes  of  leather,  or  tassels  of 
bone,  bear  testimony  that  the  hardships  of  their  lot  have  nei- 
ther cramped  their  taste,  nor  stifled  their  natural  love  of  orna- 
ment. With  an  air  of  freedom  and  of  personal  comfort  that 
can  hardly  be  believed,  while  he  enjoys  the  protection  I  have 
just  described,  the  hardy  native  courageously  braves  an  in- 
tensity of  frost  sufficient  to  congeal  mercury.  He  proceeds 
on  his  journey,  or  pursues  his  prey,  with  a  hilarity  and 
keenness  which  testify,  that  the  Being  who  has  placed  him 
among  the  horrors  of  his  icy  abode,  has  also  afforded  him 
ample  means  of  defence  and  enjoyment.  G.  J.  C.  D. 


312  INHABITANTS    OF   THE    POLAR    REGIONS. 


ELEVENTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

in.    ON    THE    HSTHABITANTS    OF   THE    POLAR   REGIONS. DWELL- 
INGS   AND    FIRE. 

3.  In  all  climates,  but  more  especially  in  the  extreme  north, 
it  is  a  matter  of  indispensable  importance  to  the  inhabitants, 
to  provide  for  themselves  shelter  from  the  inclemency  of  the 
weather.  The  lengthened  journeys  which  these  tribes  are 
compelled  by  their  necessities  to  undertake,  the  frequency  of 
their  removals,  and  the  obliterating  effects  of  falling  snow, 
all  tend  to  render  it  at  once  inconvenient  and  useless  for 
them,  even  were  it  practicable,  to  erect  permanent  dwelling- 
places.  Had  they  wood,  stone,  and  mortar  at  command, 
these  materials  would  be  to  them  of  little  avail.  The  villa- 
ges of  to-day,  deserted  to-morrow,  and  next  day  buried  many 
feet  beneath  the  snowy  covering  which  enveloped,  for  so 
large  a  portion  of  the  year,  the  surface  of  their  country, 
would,  ere  their  return,  be  altogether  useless,  even  if  they 
were  sure,  at  the  end  of  several  months,  to  find  the  spot  on 
which  they  stood.  But  we  need  not  say  that  such  applian- 
ces as  these  are  not  within  their  reach.  The  wreck  left  by 
the  southern  wave,  when  it  washes  their  shores,  may  some- 
times, indeed,  provide  them  with  a  tree,  a  mast,  or  a  spar ; 
but  these  materials  are  too  eagerly  coveted,  and  too  valuable 
for  constructing  the  smaller  articles  required  by  them,  to 
leave  any  sufficient  proportion  for  such  purposes  as  building ; 
while,  of  the  architectural  uses  of  stone  and  lime,  they  seem 
to  be  altogether  ignorant.  But  for  all  these  wants,  they  are 
furnished,  by  the  protecting  providence  of  God,  with  an  am- 
ple and  highly  appropriate  substitute,  however  strange  it 
may  appear  to  the  inhabitants  of  temperate  regions.  The 
snow  which  covers  the  soil  for  by  far  the  greater  portion  of 
the  year,  offers  them  the  refuge  which  their  necessities  re- 
quire. Migrating,  as  they  do,  from  time  to  time,  in  search  of 
food,  at  the  close  of  each  day's  journey  they  erect  their  tem- 


DWELLINGS   AND   FIRE. 


313 


porary  dwellings,  at  little  expense  either  of  materials  or  work- 
manship ;  and,  when  they  reach  the  station  which  they  pro- 
pose to  occupy  for  a  few  months,  even  then  their  mode  of 
building  is  of  the  simplest  sort.  It  is  thus  described  by  Sir 
John  Ross : — '  Having  ascertained,  by  the  rod  used  in  ex- 
amining seal-holes,  whether  the  snow  is  sufficiently  deep 
and  solid,  they  level  the  intended  spot  by  a  wooden  shovel, 
leaving  beneath  a  solid  mass  of  snow,  not  less  than  three 
feet  thick.  Commencing  then,  in  the  centre  of  the  intended 
circle,  which  is  ten  feet  or  more  in  diameter,  different  wedge- 
shaped  blocks  are  cut  out,  about  two  feet  long,  and  a  foot 
thick,  at  the  outer  part ;  then  trimming  them  accurately  by 
the  knife,  they  proceed  upward,  until  the  courses,  gradually 
inclining  inwards,  terminate  in  a  perfect  dome.  The  door, 
being  cut  out  from  the  inside,  before  it  is  quite  closed,  serves 
to  supply  the  upper  materials.  In  the  mean  time,  the  women 
are  employed  in  stuffing  the  joints  with  snow,  and  the  boys 
in  constructing  kennels  for  the  dogs.'*  In  the  interior,  the 
only  furniture  that  is  to  be  seen,  consists  of  a  sofa  of  snow, 
occupying  nearly  a  third  of  the  breadth  of  the  area,  about 
two  feet  and  a  half  high,  level  at  the  top,  and  covered  with 
various  skins,  forming  the  general  bed  or  sleeping-place. 
The  hut  is  lighted  by  a  window  of  ice  nicely  inserted  in  the 
building,  and  secured  by  frozen  snow ;  and  the  entrance  is 
by  a  passage,  long,  narrow  and  crooked,  the  outer  aperture 
of  which  is  planned,  and  from  time  to  time  altered,  so  as  to 
secure  the  inmates  from  the  prevailing  winds  of  the  season. 
The  stores  are  laid  up  in  smaller  huts,  constructed  to  receive 
them ;  and  they,  and  the  kennels  for  the  dogs,  which  invari- 
ably accompany  the  tribes,  are  formed  of  the  same  material. 
It  will  naturally  be  conjectured,  that  such  dwellings  as  have 
now  been  described,  must  be  extremely  cold,  and  liable,  on 
any  accession  of  artificial  heat,  to  be  rendered  altogether  unin- 
halDitable,  by  the  perpetual  distillation  of  water  from  the  icy 
walls.  But  there  are  several  considerations  which  must  be 
taken  into  the  account,  to  enable  us  to  judge  of  the  suitable- 

*  Voyage,  p.  298. 
VOL.  IV.  27 


314  INHABITANTS    OF    THE    POLAPc    REGIONS. 

ness  of  these  habitations  for  the  hardy  race  who  occupy  them. 
It  must  be  noticed,  in  the  first  place,  as  a  most  important  pro- 
vision for  their  comfort,  that  snow  is  a  very  imperfect  con- 
ductor of  heat.  The  severe  cold  of  the  external  air,  there- 
fore, makes  but  a  small  impression  on  the  temperature  of  a 
chamber  situated  beneath  a  snow-wall  of  considerable  thick- 
ness. Then,  from  its  extreme  whiteness,  it  is,  comparatively 
speaking,  little  liable  to  be  dissolved  by  the  heat  of  a  lamp  or 
fire,  being  much  more  ready  to  reflect  caloric  than  to  absorb 
it.  These  facts,  however,  striking  as  they  are,  it  is  clear, 
could  not  prevent  the  most  annoying  effects,  were  a  strong 
heat  constantly  kept  up  within  their  circumscribed  apart- 
ments. But  here  we  find  another  important  provision.  The 
bodily  frame,  in  all  latitudes,  speedily  becomes  inured,  by 
habit,  to  the  climate  to  which  it  is  exposed,  and  the  standard 
of  temperature  requisite  for  comfort,  accordingly  rises  or  falls, 
as  we  live  nearer  the  equator  or  the  poles.  While  the  Afri- 
can shivers  under  the  summer  warmth  of  the  temperate  zone, 
a  degree  of  heat  scarcely  sufficient  to  raise  the  mercury  to  the 
freezing  point,  affords  to  the  patient  Esquimaux,  in  his  snowy 
hut,  quite  enough  of  warmth  to  make  him  comfortable  ;  and, 
even  if  the  temperature  should,  at  times,  be  raised  so  high  as 
to  promote  a  rapid  distillation  from  the  walls,  his  ideas  of 
luxury  do  not  render  this  a  very  serious  inconvenience. 
When  we  remember  that  it  is  not  luxury  which  these  rude 
tribes  value,  but  simply  shelter,  we  shall  be  less  surprised 
with  their  contentment,  especially  Avhen  we  learn  that  their 
clothing  affords  them  sufficient  security  against  the  wetting 
influence  even  of  mched  snow.  They  experience  quite  as 
much  of  comfort  as  they  desire,  in  finding  themselves,  during 
sleep,  snug  in  their  bags  of  fur,  though  the  spot  on  which 
they  lie  be  neither  very  dry  nor  very  soft  ;  for  this  defence 
provided  for  them  by  the  care  of  their  Divine  Preserver,  an- 
swers to  them  all  the  ends  for  which  it  is  needed. 

4.  In  a  region  such  as  this,  of  frost  and  snow,  of  storm  and 
tempest,  it  will  easily  be  believed  that  the  inhabitants  are 


DWELLINGS    AND   FIRE.  315 

very  dependent  on  fire,  as  a  means  of  sustaining  life ;  and 
the  question  will  at  once  suggest  itself,  Whence  can  they 
derive  fuel  ?  Coals  are  unknown  to  them ;  and  wood,  we 
have  seen,  is  much  too  valuable  to  be  used  for  such  a  purpose. 
But  they  are  not  left  destitute.  Their  little  chambers  are 
illuminated,  during  the  whole  course  of  their  lengthened 
winter,  by  the  cheerful,  warm,  and  useful  blaze  of  the  lamp, 
which  is  replenished  by  oil  from  the  seals  yearly  destroyed, 
in  immense  multitudes,  by  the  native  hunters.  We  have 
seen  how  valuable  to  the  natives  of  these  Arctic  regions,  is 
the  oily  nature  of  their  diet.  Here,  however,  we  find  that 
Providence  had  another  end  in  view  in  affording  to  the  in- 
habitants of  these  countries  so  large  a  supply  of  fat  and  oil 
as  that  which  is  obtained  from  several  of  the  cetaceous  tribes 
which  frequent  their  stormy  seas.  Nor  is  this  an  end  less 
essential  to  the  preservation  of  human  life.  There,  where 
no  other  fuel  could  be  had,  and  where,  without  fire,  the  race 
of  men  must  soon  have  become  extinct,  were  fixed  these  liv- 
ing reservoirs  of  combustible  fluid,  which  it  only  needed  the 
exercise  of  reason,  of  perseverance,  and  of  ingenuity,  to  bring 
within  the  power  of  the  human  family  ;  by  which  a  provi- 
sion has  been  made  for  their  wants,  infinitely  better  suited  to 
the  circumstances  of  their  lot,  in  their  inhospitable  deserts, 
than  any  other  description  of  fuel  that  could  be  named. 
Coals  would  have  required  the  assistance  of  large  beasts  of 
burden,  and  the  convenience  of  roads,  to  remove  them  from 
the  pits  to  the  places  where  they  were  to  be  consumed,  and 
the  very  nature  of  the  climate  rendered  both  of  these  equally 
impossible  to  be  obtained.  Wood,  even  supposing  it  could 
have  been  had,  would  have  been  almost  as  inconvenient ; 
but  the  seals  are  generally  to  be  met  with  readily,  and  killed 
with  ease,  affording,  for  a  moderate  degree  of  labour  and  of 
ingenuity,  not  only  an  ample  banquet,  but  a  very  considera- 
ble quantity  of  the  best  oil,  to  feed  the  flame  on  which  their 
food,  their  drink,  and  their  comfort  mainly  depend.  How 
can  we  contemplate  such  facts  as  these,  without  admiring  the 


316  FROST. PROVISION    FOR    CAUSING 

goodness  and  the  care  of  that  God  who  has  so  liberally  fur- 
nished the  means  of  subsistence,  even  in  this  wild,  desolate, 
and  barren  country !  G.  J.  C.  D. 


ELEVENTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

I,    FROST. PROVISION    FOR    CAUSING    ICE    TO    FLOAT    ON    THE 

SURFACE. 

Without  heat,  every  thing  would  be  solid  ;  the  true  way, 
therefore,  of  viewing  liquids,  is  to  consider  them  as  solids  in 
a  melted  state.  Bodies  melt  at  different  temperatures,  accord- 
ing to  their  capacity  of  receiving  heat,  and  to  the  nature  of 
the  action  which  this  subtle  principle  produces  on  their  par- 
ticles. Thus,  it  requires  one  degree  of  intensity  to  melt  stone, 
another  to  melt  iron,  another  to  melt  lead,  and  another  still 
to  melt  ice.  In  this  view,  ice  may  be  considered  as  the  na- 
tural state  of  the  element,  and  water  to  be  nothing  else  than 
ice  rendered  liquid,  like  other  substances,  by  heat.  When 
the  short  continuance  of  the  sun  above  the  horizon  in  winter, 
and  his  oblique  rays,  have  greatly  diminished  the  force  of 
his  influence,  he  is  no  longer  able  to  preserve  water  in  a 
liquid  state,  and  then  the  process  of  crystallization  takes  place, 
and  ice  is  formed.  But  there  is  a  remarkable  difference  be- 
tween ice  and  other  solid  bodies,  in  the  laws  regulating  its 
passage  from  a  liquid  to  a  crystallized  state,  which  manifests 
beneficent  intention. 

Take  water  in  its  common  state,  and  observe  what  occurs 
in  reference  to  heat.  It  is  the  property  of  water,  in  common 
with  other  liquids,  to  communicate  heat,  not  so  much  by  con- 
duction^ as  it  is  called, — that  is,  by  transmitting  the  tempera- 
ture from  particle  to  particle, — as  by  a  motion  among  the 
particles  themselves.  Liquids,  like  solids,  expand  by  heat 
and  contract  by  cold.  When  heat,  therefore,  is  applied  to 
the  bottom  of  a  vessel,  the  expansion  diminishes  the  specific 
gravity  of  the  particles  affected  by  it,  and  they  rise  to  the  sur- 


ICE  TO  FLOAT  ON  THE  SURFACE.  317 

face,  giving  place  to  the  colder  and  heavier  particles,  which 
again  are  heated  in  their  turn,  and  ascend  ;  and  thus  the  pro- 
cess proceeds,  till  the  whole  liquid  is  of  equal  temperature. 
In  cooling,  the  opposite  process  takes  place  ;  the  particles,  as 
they  become  colder  at  the  surface,  subside,  while  others,  of 
higher  temperature,  supply  their  place,  and  this  interchange 
and  mixture  goes  on  till  the  whole  body  of  the  liquid  be- 
comes as  cold  as  the  surface.     This  remarkable  property  we 
have  already  noticed  in  speaking  of  the  effect  of  the  waters 
of  the  ocean  in  mitigating  the  temperature  of  different  cli- 
mates.    Let  us  now  see  what  would  be  the  consequence  if 
the  same  laws  were  to  hold  without  limitation  or  exception. 
The  cooled  particles  constantly  descending,  in  virtue  of  their 
relative  specific  gravity,  would,  when  the  freezing  point  was 
reached,  suddenly  convert  lakes  and  rivers,  and  the  bed  of 
the  ocean  itself,  into  a  solid  mass  of  ice,  the  congelation  be- 
ginning at  the  bottom,  and  quickly  spreading  upward.     Nor, 
when  our  deep  waters  were  once  frozen,  would  there  be  any 
natural  means  in  existence  by  which  they  could  be  thawed 
to  the  bottom,  because  the  heated  particles,  being  the  lightest, 
would  constantly  float  at  the  top,  and  the  warmth  could  only 
be  diffused,  as  it  is  in  solids,  by  the  slower  and  less  equable 
means  of  conduction.     The  experiment  has  been  made,  and 
water  has  been  caused  to  boil,  by  the  application  of  heat  to  a 
vessel  partly  filled  with  ice,  without  thawing  the  congealed 
cake  below. 

Now,  this  would  be  attended  with  many  disadvantages. 
The  utility  of  our  seas  and  lakes,  in  our  own  and  similar 
latitudes,  would  be  destroyed  as  means  of  commerce  and  of 
subsistence  ;  and  that  element  which,  by  its  equal  and  mild 
temperature,  contributes  so  essentially  to  the  salubrity  of  all 
climates,  from  the  tropics  to  the  polar  regions,  would  serve 
only  to  chill  the  atmosphere,  and  render  even  our  temperate 
climates  inhospitable. 

Let  us  then  attend  to  the  modification  of  the  law  by  which 
this  inconvenience  is  provided  against.     Water  continues  to 
contract  by  the  application  of  cold,  till  it  approaches  the  freez- 
27* 


318  FROST. PROVISION    FOR    CAUSING 

ing-  point ;  but  here  a  most  remarkable  deviation  takes  place. 
When  it  has  cooled  down  to  40°,  instead  of  continuing  to 
contract,  it  suddenly  begins  to  expand,  and  it  proceeds  in 
this  new  course,  till,  at  32°,  it  becomes  ice.  The  fluid  is, 
therefore,  at  its  greatest  density,  when  its  temperature  is  just 
8°  above  the  freezing  point ;  and  hence  the  bottoms  of  our 
seas  and  lakes  will  be  generally  found,  in  winter,  not  to  ex- 
ceed that  extent  of  coldness.*  The  coldest  water,  as  it  ap- 
proaches the  freezing  point,  rises  to  the  surface.  There  the 
ice  is  formed,  exposed  to  the  first  return  of  a  more  genial 
temperature,  and  ready  to  dissolve  with  the  earliest  influences 
of  a  warmer  sun. 

Another  remarkable  circumstance,  which  secures  the  float- 
ing of  ice  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  is,  that  in  the  very  act 
of  freezing,  a  farther  expansion  takes  place.  By  this  opera- 
tion the  specific  gravity  of  ice  becomes  less  than  that  of  water 
under  any  circumstances,  and  it  is  thus  prevented  from  sink- 
ing to  the  bottom.  Did  no  expansion  take  place  in  the  pro- 
cess of  congelation,  ice  would  continue  to  float  only  so  long 
as  the  water  on  the  surface  of  which  it  was  formed,  remained 
below  the  temperature  of  40°.  If  the  temperature  happened 
to  be  raised  above  this  point,  it  would  immediately  sink,  and 
be  overwhelmed,  giving  rise  to  various  inconveniences, 
though  not  of  so  formidable  a  nature  as  those  already  al- 
luded to. 

It  is  not  easy  for  the  most  sceptical  to  avoid  the  conclusion, 
that  the  marked  and  salutary  deviation  in  this  case,  from  the 
law  by  which  matter  is  expanded  by  heat  and  contracted  by 
cold,  is  an  arrangement  of  an  intelligent  and  beneficent  Cre- 
ator. The  general  rule  is  followed  down  to  the  point  where 
it  ceases  to  be  beneficial ;  and  then,  by  a  sudden  and  surpris- 
ing change,  the  very  opposite  rule  takes  place,  by  which  dis- 
astrous effects  are  prevented,  and  various  important  advan- 

*  It  seems  unnecessary  to  notice  some  remarkable  facts  which  have 
lately  attracted  public  attention,  that  appear  somewhat  to  modify  this 
conclusion,  ice  having  been  found  formed  at  the  bottom  of  some  deep 
lakes. 


ICE  TO  FLOAT  ON  THE  SURFACE.  319 

tage's  are  secured.     Where  could  we  look  for  a  clearer  or 
more  satisfactory  proof  of  wise  contrivance  ? 

'  We  do  not  know,'  says  Whewell, '  how  far  these  laws  of 
expansion  are  *connected  with,  and  depends  on,  more  remote 
and  general  properties  of  this  fluid,  or  of  all  fluids.  But  we 
have  no  reason  to  believe,  that  by  whatever  means  they  oper- 
ate, they  are  not  laws  selected  from  among  other  laws  which 
might  exist,  as,  in  fact,  for  other  fluids,  other  laws  do  exist. 
We  have  all  the  evidence  which  the  most  remarkable 
furtherance  of  important  purposes  can  give  us,  that  they  are 
selected,  and  selected  with  a  beneficial  design.'* 


ELEVENTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

II.    FROST. THE     EXPANSIVE   AND   NON-CONDUCTING   POWER 

OF    ICE. 

Our  attention  was  yesterday  directed  to  some  of  the  pecu- 
liar provisions  by  which  the  freezing  of  water  is  so  modified 
as  to  prevent  the  fatal  effects  that  would  ensue  were  the 
general  law  of  expansion  and  contraction  which  regulates 
heated  bodies,  to  operate  without  being  arrested  and  ahered. 
But  there  are  one  or  two  other  beneficial  operations  of  frost 
in  our  climate,  which  must  not  be  passed  without  notice. 

The  expansive  power  of  water,  when  passing  into  ice,  has 
already  been  stated.  This  power  operates  with  great  force 
as  has  been  ascertained  by  experiment.  A  familiar  instance 
occurs  in  the  bursting  of  bottles  filled  with  water  or  other 
liquids,  when  corked  up  and  exposed  to  its  influence.  The 
same  power  affects  the  soil,  when  saturated  with  moisture 
heaving  up  and  separating  the  particles  of  earth  and  gravel. 
This  sometimes  acts  disadvantageously,  by  throwing  out  the 
plants  of  young  wheat,  and  by  loosening  the  materials  of 
which  our  roads  are  composed  ;  but  it  amply  repays  these 
partial  inconveniences  by  its  pulverizing  effects  on  tenacious 
*  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p.  85. 


320  FHOST. EXPANSIVE    AND 

soils.  Stiir  loams,  as  they  are  called,  that,  is,  lands  chiefly 
composed  of  an  unctuous  clay,  though  abounding  in  the 
vegetative  principle,  are  yet  naturally  in  an  unfit  state  for 
successful  cultivation.  Their  tenacity  prevent^the  absorption 
and  removal  of  the  superfluous  moisture  during  rainy  sea- 
sons, and  in  drought  renders  the  soil  so  indurated,  as  to  ob- 
struct the  free  growth  of  the  roots  of  plants,  and  the  secretion 
of  sap.  Now  the  agriculturist  knows  how  to  obviate  these 
disadvantages,  by  the  exposure  of  this  kind  of  soil  to  the 
influence  of  frost.  He  ploughs  up  his  land  into  furrows  ; 
and,  by  thus  presenting  it  to  the  freezing  process,  finds  that 
the  water  mingled  with  the  soil,  as  it  expands  in  being  con- 
verted into  ice,  separates,  with  irresistible  force,  the  adhesive 
particles  of  the  clay ;  and,  when  again  contracted,  and  ren- 
dered liquid  by  thawing,  leaves  the  earth  finely  pulverized, 
and  brought  into  a  state  well  fitted  for  giving  forth  its  prolific 
qualities  in  the  ensuing  year. 

Another  beneficial  property  of  frost  in  the  form  of  ice  as 
well  as  of  snow,  is  the  power  it  possesses  of  confining  the 
cold  to  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  ice  binds  up  the  soil, 
and  being  a  slow  conductor,  prevents  the  severity  of  the  sea- 
son from  injuriously  affecting  the  fibres  and  roots  of  the  plants 
which  nature  has,  in  general,  buried  to  a  sufficient  depth  for 
their  preservation,  with  the  aid  of  this  wise  provision.  Even 
when  the  ice  reaches  and  envelopes  the  roots,  it  seldom 
materially  injures  them,  because  it  does  not  easily  descend 
below  the  freezing  point,  which  is  much  higher  than  the 
usual  temperature  of  the  air  in  northern  winters. 

Here,  again,  we  find  cause  of  pious  admiration.  We  do 
not  expect  a  world  of  perfection ;  but  the  contrary.  All 
climates  have  their  inconveniences  and  evils :  such  is  the 
condition  of  a  fallen  world  ;  but  then  these  disadvantages 
are  always,  in  a  wonderful  manner,  guarded,  limited,  and 
mitigated.  They  proceed  to  a  certain  point ;  but  there  a 
paternal  hand  interposes ;  and  the  sentence  is  pronounced  as 
distinctly  as  if  it  were  proclaimed  with  an  audible  voice, 
<  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  and  no  farther.'     The  obvious 


NON-CONDUCTING    POWER    OF    ICE.  '         321 

intention  is  discipline,  and  not  destruction.  In  tropical  cli- 
mates, for  example,  the  heat  of  a  vertical  sun,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  not  permitted  to  accumulate,  by  perpetual  action  on 
one  point,  as.it  would  thus  become  intolerable.  That  great 
source  of  light  and  warmth  is  made  continually  to  traverse 
from  tropic  to  tropic  ;  and  when  his  direct  rays  would  strike 
too  fiercely  in  his  passage  there,  the  clouds  collect  their 
shade,  the  rising  winds  fan  the  air,  the  cooling  and  fertilizing 
rains  descend,  and  thus  he  moves  along  in  his  tempered  glory, 
showering  blessings  from  his  wings  at  the  moment  when  he 
threatened  to  scorch  and  destroy.  And  a  similar  arrange- 
ment is  observable  with  reference  to  the  opposite  extreme  of 
intense  cold.  The  wintery  blast  seems  calculated  utterly  to 
exterminate  both  the  vegetable  and  animal  creation  :  but  by 
a  series  of  deeply  excogitated  contrivances,  the  calamity  is 
averted,  and  life  and  vigour  are  preserved  in  the  vegetable 
world,  while  comfort  and  enjoyment  are  communicated  to 
every  thing  that  lives. 

How  curious  and  edifying  is  the  analogy  between  the 
works  of  creation  and  the  operations  of  Divine  grace, — ^be- 
tween the  revelations  of  the  book  of  Nature  and  of  the  book 
of  Inspiration.  When  the  curse  fell  on  man,  it  was  mitigated 
by  the  promise,  that '  the  seed  of  the  woman  should  bruise 
the  head  of  the  serpent ;'  when  the  earth  was  forbidden  to 
yield  him  food,  except  as  the  fruit  of  painful  toil,  that  very  toil 
was  converted  into  a  source  of  pleasure  and  improvement. 

Here  is  compensation  ;  but  grace  goes  far  beyond  the 
analogy  of  nature,  for  it  promises  heaven  for  earth, — the 
absolute  and  unalloyed  blessedness  of  immortality,  for ,  the 
turmoils  and  stinted  enjoyments  of  this  mortal  life.  When 
the  terrestrial  paradise  was  closed  against  man  for  ever,  his 
eye  was  directed,  across  a  rugged  and  gloomy  wilderness, 
and  through  a  swelling  flood,  to  that  bright  spot  in  the  dis- 
tant horizon,  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and 
the  weary  are  at  rest ;  where  a  Father's  hand  wipes  the  tear 
from  every  eye;  and  where  'joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory'  eternally  reigns. 


322  FROST. 

ELEVENTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

in.     FROST. AMUSEMExMTS    CONNECTED    WITH    IT 

A  GROUP  of  school-boys  on  the  surface  of  a  frozen  pond  or 
lake,  is  a  most  animated  and  interesting  spectacle.  There  is 
so  much  evidence  of  real  enjoyment  in  the  motions,  the 
accents,  and  the  countenances  of  the  various  individuals  who 
compose  it,  whether  they  glide  along  the  ice  on  skates,  or  by 
means  of  the  more  humble  instrumentality  of  wooden  shoes 
fenced  with  iron,  or  of  a  staff,  armed  with  a  pike,  that  a 
spectator,  accustomed  to  reflection,  cannot  fail  to  recognize,  in 
the  happiness  which  prevails  around  him,  an  evidence  of  a 
benevolent  Creator. 

It  might  perhaps  appear  ludicrous,  were  I  to  assert  that  ice 
is  formed  smooth  and  hard,  for  the  purpose  of  affording  means 
of  healthy  and  exhilarating  sport  to  the  ^''oung  ;  and  I  might  be 
reminded,  that  this  is  just  the  form  which  the  crystallizing  pro- 
cess takes  in  other  instances,  and  the  natural  result  of  its  laws. 
Be  it  so  ;  but  still  it  is  impossible  to  deny,  that  the  youthful 
mind  is  so  framed  as  to  take  pleasure  in  the  exercises  which 
the  smooth  and  level  surface  of  the  ice  affords ;  and  surely 
we  do  not  go  beyond  the  bounds  of  legitimate  inference,  when 
we  assert,  that  this  is  one  of  the  benevolent  contrivances  by 
which  the  rigours  of  winter  are  softened,  whether  the  adapta- 
tion lie  in  the  polished  surface  of  the  frozen  plain,  or  in  the 
buoyancy  of  the  youthful  mind,  or  in  both.  This  observation 
may  be  greatly  extended  ;  for  there  is  scarcely  any  object 
with  which  we  are  surrounded,  that  is  not,  to  the  well-con- 
stituted mind,  a  source  of  enjoyment.  In  the  young  this  is 
more  conspicuous,  because  the  pleasurable  feeling  lies  nearer 
the  surface,  and  is  more  easily  excited,  and  expressed  more 
emphatically,  by  outward  signs.  But  it  would  be  a  great 
mistake  to  measure  the  relative  enjoyments  of  childhood  and 
manhood  by  their  external  expression,  or  to  suppose  that  na- 
ture, even  in   its  most  familiar  aspects,  does  not  present  as 


AMUSEMENTS   CONNECTED    WITH   IT.  323 

many  objects  of  interest,  and  of  agreeable  sensation,  to  those 
who  are  in  the  meridian  of  life,  or  even  verging  towards  the 
shades  of  evening,  as  to  those  Avho  flutter  in  the  morning 
sunshine. 

If  the  ice  afford  to  the  school-boy  the  joy  of  gliding  swiftly 
on  its  smooth  expanse,  it  is  not  niggardly  of  its  amusements 
to  the  more  sedate  minds  of  the  mature  in  age.  To  every 
northern  country,  some  amusement  on  the  ice  is  familiar ; 
and,  among  these,  that  of  curling  may  be  mentioned  as  the 
game  peculiarly  prized  in  many  districts  of  Scotland  ;  and 
also,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  the  Netherlands  ;  from  which  latter 
country  it  seems  to  have  been  originally  derived.  The  amia- 
ble Grahame,  in  his  British  Georgics,  gives  a  graphic  de- 
scription of  this  amusement,  an  extract  from  which  will  not 
be  unacceptable  : — 

'  Now  rival  parishes  and  shrievedoms,  keep, 
On  upland  lochs,  the  long-expeeted  tryst, 
To  play  their  yearly  bonspeil.     Aged  men, 
Smitwith  the  eagerness  of  youth,  are  there. 
While  love  of  conquest  lights  their  beamless  eye, 
New  nerves  their  arms,  and  makes  them  young  once  more. 

♦  *  *  * 

Keen,  keener  still,  as  life  itself  were  staked, 
Kindless  the  friendly  strife  :  one  points  the  line 
To  him  who,  poising,  aims  and  aims  again ; 
Another  runs,  and  sweeps  where  nothing  lies; 
Success,  alternately,  from  side  to  side, 
Changes ;  and  quick  the  hours  unnoted  fly, 
Till  light  begins  to  fail,  and  deep  below, 
The  player,  as  he  stoops  to  lift  his  coit, 
Sees,  half  incredulous,  the  rising  moon. 
And  now  the  final,  the  decisive  spell 
Begins;  near  and  more  near  the  sounding  stones. 
Some  winding  in,  some  bearing  straight  along, 
Crowd  justling  all  around  the  mark ;  while  one 
Just  slightly  touching,  victory  depends 
Upon  the  final  aim :  low  swings  the  stone, 
Then,  with  full  force,  careering  furious  on, 
Rattling  it  strikes  aside  both  friend  and  foe. 
Maintains  its  course,  and  takes  the  victor's  place.' 


324      FROST. AMUSEMENTS  CONNECTED  WITH  IT. 

These  are  but  single  instances  of  the  means  of  enjoyment, 
which  brighten  the  gloom  of  winter.  The  benevolent  Pa- 
rent of  nature  enables  the  human  mind  to  find  a  source 
of  pleasure,  as  I  have  said,  almost  in  every  thing.  Who 
has  not  felt  his  heart  expand  with  an  undefinable  delight 
when  he  has  beheld  the  fantastic  forms  into  which,  during 
severe  weather,  the  frozen  spray  or  drippings  of  a  cascade 
throw  themselves,  and  when  he  has  given  loose  reins  to  his 
fancy,  in  tracing  crystal  grottos,  and  temples,  and  spires,  in 
the  endless  but  always  elegant  varieties  of  the  architecture 
which  the  wizard  Frost  had  reared  ?  The  very  icicles  de- 
pendent from  the  eaves  of  the  houses,  as  they  glance  in  the 
morning  sun,  are  not  beheld  without  a  pleasing  emotion  ; 
and  a  higher  gratification  to  the  taste  is  afforded  in  contem- 
plating the  white  expanse  of  the  snow,  as  it  spreads  its  bright 
and  colourless  carpet  over  the  fields,  and  lies  thick  on  the 
bending  hedges  and  trees,  while,  at  the  horizon,  the  cold  mar- 
ble outline  of  the  distant  hills,  swelling  in  the  softened  light, 
is  finely  contrasted  with  the  dark  blue  of  the  serene  and 
cloudless  sky.  Mr.  Abbott,  a  pleasing  and  amiable  American 
writer,  has  touched,  very  beautifully,  on  the  '  thousand  inge- 
nious contrivances,'  as  he  calls  them,  which  '  God  has  planned 
and  executed  to  make  men  happy,'  and  he  alludes,  among 
other  things,  to  the  enjoyments  of  winter,  in  a  few  sentences, 
which  will  form  an  appropriate  conclusion  to  this  paper. 

'  You  can  give  no  reason,'  says  he, '  why  the  heart  of  a 
child  is  filled  with  such  joyous  glee,  when  the  first  snow- 
flakes  descend.  There  is  no  very  special  beauty  in  the  sight, 
and  there  are  no  very  well-defined  hopes  of  slides  or  rides,  to 
awaken  such  joy.  At  fifty,  the  gladness  is  not  expressed  so 
unequivocally  ;  but  yet,  when  the  gravest  philosopher  rides 
through  a  wood,  whose  boughs  are  loaded  with  the  snow,  and 
whose  tops  bend  over  with  the  burden,  and  looks  upon  the 
footsteps  of  the  rabbit  who  has  leaped  along  over  the  ground, 
he  feels  the  same  pleasure,  though  he  indicates  it,  by  riding 
on  in  silent  musing,  instead  of  uttering  exclamations  of  de- 
light.    Can  you  explain  this  pleasure  ?     Is  there  anydescrib- 


WINTER   NOT   MONOTONOUS.  325 

able  pleasure  in  a  great  expanse  of  white  ?  Is  the  form  of 
the  trees,  or  the  beauty  of  their  foliage,  improved  by  their 
snowy  mantle?  No!  The  explanation  is,  that  God,  who 
formed  the  laws  of  nature,  formed  also  the  human  heart ;  and 
has  so  adapted  the  one  to  the  other,  as  to  promote,  in  every 
variety  of  mode,  the  enjoyment  of  the  beings  he  has  made. 
There  is  no  end  to  the  kinds  of  enjoyment  which  God  has 
thus  opened  to  us  every  where.  They  are  too  numerous  to 
be  named ;  and  no  intellectual  philosopher  has  ever  under- 
taken the  hopeless  task  of  arranging  them.'* 


TWELFTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

WINTER   NOT    MONOTONOUS. BOUNDLESS  VARIETY   OF   NATURE. 

The  winter  landscape  has  been  accused  of  monotony ;  and 
certainly  all  Nature  has  at  this  season  a  less  animated  and 
varied  aspect  than  at  any  other.  Unless  when  sprinkled  over 
with  hoar-frost,  or  covered  with  a  cold  mantle  of  snow,  the 
surface  of  the  earth  is  of  a  bleak  and  faded  hue.  The  woods 
have  long  lost  the  variegated  foliage,  that  had  previously 
ceased  to  be  their  ornament ;  and  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
with  their  '  naked  shoots,  barren  as  lances,'  present  one  uni- 
form appearance  of  death  and  decay.  The  howling  of  the 
long-continued  storm,  and  the  few  faint  bird-notes  heard  at 
intervals  in  the  thickets  or  hedges,  are  monotonously  mourn- 
ful. The  devastation  of  the  earth,  and  the  sounds  that  seem 
to  bewail  it,  are  general  and  unvaried.  A  few  hardy  plants 
and  flowers,  indeed,  begin  to  swell  their  buds  and  expand 
their  petals  ;  but  the  thick  cerements  which  envelope  the  one 
class,  and  the  pale  and  sombre  hue  of  the  other,  equally  pro- 
claim to  the  querulous  mind  the  ungenial  climate. 

Such,  at  a  cursory  glance,  appear  to  be  the  aspect  and  tone 
of  our  winter  scenery.  But  the  keenly  observant  eye  dis- 
*  The  Way  to  Do  Good,  p.  68. 

VOL.  rv.  28 


326  WINTER   NOT    MONOTONOUS. 

covers,  even  at  this  desolate  season,  and  in  the  midst  of  seem- 
ing monotony,  that  endless  variety  which  characterizes  every 
province  of  creation.  On  close  inspection,  indeed,  all  we  be- 
hold is  varied.  Whatever  be  the  season,  and  wherever  lie 
the  scene  of  our  observation,  though  many  things  are  appa- 
rently similar,  yet  none  are  exactly  or  really  so.  At  certain 
times  and  places,  the  mutual  resemblances  between  all  the 
common  objects  of  sense,  all  that  solicits  the  eye  or  the  ear 
in  the  landscape,  may  be  so  numerous  and  striking,  as  to 
produce  a  feeling  of  monotony ;  groups  of  mournful  sights 
and  sounds  may,  in  the  dead  of  the  year,  successively  impress 
us  with  a  sense  of  melancholy,  and  incline  us  to  set  a  limit 
to  the  usual  prodigality  of  nature  ;  but  yet  true  wisdom, 
aided  by  quick  and  active  observation,  easily  draws  the  dull 
veil  of  uniformity  aside,  and  reveals  to  the  admiring  eye 
boundless  diversity  even  in  the  ravaged  and  gloomy  scenery 
of  winter. 

Are  the  woods  so  uniformly  dead,  as,  on  a  first  survey,  they 
appear  ?  The  oak,  the  ash,  the  beech,  and  most  of  our  for- 
est trees  have  lost  their  varied  foliage ;  but,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  larch,  the  numerous  varieties  of  the  fir  and  the 
pine  retain  their  leaves,  and  variegate  the  disrobed  grove  with 
their  unfading  verdure.  In  the  woodland  copse,  or  lonely 
dell,  the  beautiful  holly  still  gladdens  the  eye  with  its  shining 
and  dark  green  leaves.  Nor  are  our  shubberies  without 
their  living  green.  The  laurel  and  the  bay  defy  the  blasts 
of  winter,  and  continue  to  shelter  and  beautify  our  dwellings. 
The  flowers  have  not  all  vanished.  One  of  the  fairest,  and 
seemingly  one  of  the  most  delicate  of  them  all,  the  Christmas 
rose,  spots  the  garden  or  shrubbery  with  its  bloom,  unhurt 
by  the  chilling  influences  of  the  season.  Before  the  severity 
of  winter  is  over,  the  snow-drop  emerges  from  the  reviving 
turf,  the  lovely  and  venturous  herald  of  a  coming  host. 
Thus,  in  the  period  of  frost,  and  snow,  and  vegetable  death, 
the  beauty  of  flowers  is  not  unknown  ;  but  rather  what  sur- 
vives or  braves  the  desolating  storm,  is  doubly  enhanced  fc 
our  eyes  by  the  surrounding  dreariness  and  decay. 


BOUNDLESS  VARIETY  OF  NATURE.  327 

And  are  the  atmospherical  phenomena  of  this  season  mo- 
notonous or  uninteresting  ?  Independently  of  the  striking 
contrast  they  present  to  those  of  summer  and  autumn,  they 
are  of  themselves  grandly  diversified.  The  dark  and  rainy 
storm  careers  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  till  the  flooded 
rivers  overflow  their  banks,  and  the  forest  roars  like  a  tem- 
pestuous sea.  The  hoar-frost  spangles  the  ground  with  a 
white  and  brilliant  incrustation,  or  the  snow,  falling  softly, 
covers  the  wide  expanse  of  mountain,  and  wood,  and  plain, 
with  a  mantle  of  dazzling  purity.  Then  the  dark  branches 
of  the  trees,  bending  under  a  load  of  white  and  feathery 
flakes,  have  a  picturesque  aspect,  and  seem  to  rejoice  in  the 
substitute  for  their  lost  foliage.  And  how  fantastically  beau- 
tiful are  the  efl^ects  of  frost !  Water  is  transmuted  into  solid 
forms,  of  a  thousand  different  shapes.  The  lake,  and  even 
the  river  itself,  becomes  a  crystal  floor,  and  the  drops  of  the 
house-eaves  collect  into  rows  of  icicles  of  varying  dimen- 
sions, differently  reflecting  and  refracting  the  rays  of  the  mid- 
day sun.  The  earth  is  bound  in  magical  fetters,  and  rings 
beneath  the  tread.  The  air  is  pure  and  keen,  yet  not  insuf- 
ferably cold.  Calm  and  clear  frosty  days,  succeeded  by 
nights  that  unveil  the  full  glory  of  the  starry  firmament,  are 
intermingled  with  magnificent  tempests,  that  sweep  over  the 
land  and  sea,  and  make  the  grandest  music  to  the  ear  that  is 
attuned  to  the  harmonies  of  nature. 

Variety  seems  to  be  a  universal  attribute  of  creation.  It 
is  stamped  upon  the  heavens,  the  earth,  and  the  sea.  The 
stars  are  all  glorious ;  but  '  one  star  differeth  from  another 
star  in  glory.'  The  sun  eclipses  them  all ;  and  the  moon 
reigns  among  them  like  their  queen.  The  earth  is  covered 
with  numberless  mountains  and  hills,  thick  as  waves  on  the 
ocean,  and  more  wonderfully  diversified.  From  the  tiny  hil- 
lock to  the  cloud-piercing  peak,  no  two  eminences  are  who.lly 
alike  in  shape,  or  size,  or  in  any  single  quality.  What  val- 
ley or  plain,  what  tree,  or  flower,  or  leaf,  or  blade  of  grass,  is 
in  all  points,  similar  to  another  ?  Search  the  whole  world, 
and  you  will  find  no  pair  of  any  of  these  created  things  ex- 


328  WINTER    NOT    MONOTONOUS. 

act  counterparts  to  each  other,  in  regard  to  weight,  colour, 
structure,  figure,  or  any  other  essential  or  accidental  property. 
The  animal  world  is  as  endlessly  diversified.  Not  only  is 
the  distinction  between  the  various  genera  and  species  wide 
and  impassible,  but  between  the  individuals  of  each  species, 
no  perfect  similarity  exists.  Twins  are  commonly  most  like 
each  other  ;  but  yet  we  are  at  no  loss  to  distinguish  between 
them.  Even  when  we  take  two  parts,  however  apparently 
alike,  of  two  individuals  of  the  same  species,  we  find  the 
same  diversity.  The  variety  observable  in  the  human  coun- 
tenance has  long  been  a  matter  of  remark  and  admiration. 
The  general  features  are  the  same  in  ail ;  but  their  colour, 
their  relative  size,  and  numerous  other  particularities,  are  cu- 
riously different.  Hence  we  can  at  once  recognize  an  indi- 
vidual among  a  thousand,  even  when  they  are  of  the  same 
stature  and  complexion  with  himself 

The  diversity  of  colour  is  truly  astonishing,  and  is  the 
source  of  much  beauty  and  enjoyment.  Though  the  pri- 
mary colours  are  only  seven,  yet  these  are  so  mixed  and 
blended  over  all  nature,  as  to  delight  the  eye  with  thousands 
of  different  hues,  of  all  degrees  of  depth  and  brilliancy. 
Let  us  look  at  a  bed  of  blowing  summer  flowers,  and  behold 
the  ravishing  wonders  of  colour.  The  unstained  silvery 
whiteness  of  the  lily,  the  deep  crimson  of  the  rose,  the  dark 
and  velvety  blue  of  the  violet,  the  bright  yellow  of  the  wall- 
flower and  the  marigold,  are  but  specimens  of  the  rich  and 
gorgeous  hues  that  delight  us  with  a  sense  of  beauty  and  va- 
riety. The  fields  and  lawns,  with  their  bright  green,  spotted 
with  white  clover  and  crimson-tipped  daisies ;  the  meadows, 
with  their  butter-cups,  and  all  their  peculiar  flowers  ;  the 
woods,  with  their  fresh  spring  verdure,  and  their  flaming  au- 
tumnal robes ;  and  the  mountains,  at  one  time  bathed  in  a 
deep  azure,  at  another  shining  with  golden  sunlight,  all  ex- 
hibit the  marvellously  varied  touches  of  that  pencil  which 
none  but  the  Omnipotent  can  wield. 

This  universal  variety  is  not  merely  a  display  of  Infinite 
skill,  but  is  equally  beautiful,  pleasing,  and  useful.     It  adds 


BOUNDLESS  VARIETY  OF  NATURE.  329 

immensely  to  our  enjoyment  of  nature,  and  greatly  enhan 
ces  our  idea  of  God's  creative  attributes.  It  furnishes  us 
with  the  means  of  discrimination,  without  which  the  earth 
would  be  to  us  a  scene  of  confusion.  Were  there  only  one 
colour,  and  were  every  mountain,  for  example,  of  the  same 
shape,  or  every  shrub  and  tree  of  the  same  size,  how  dull 
and  monotonous  would  be  every  landscape !  And,  if  every 
human  face  were  exactly  alike,  how  should  we  be  able  to 
distinguish  a  friend  from  an  enemy,  a  neighbour  from  a 
stranger,  a  countryman  from  a  foreigner  ?  Or,  to  take  an  ex- 
ample still  more  impressive,  were  the  powers  and  passions  of 
every  individual  mind  in  every  respect  similar,  that  diversity 
of  character  and  pursuit  which  constitutes  the  main-spring  of 
society  and  civilization,  would  not  be  found.  In  all  this, 
there  is  adaptation  and  wise  design. 

Thus,  amidst  apparent  uniformity,  the  necessary  variety 
every  where  obtains.  Nor  does  this  variety  ever  run  to  ex- 
cess. Utter  dissimilarity  is  as  rare  as  complete  resemblance. 
All  things  are  beautifully  and  usefully  varied  ;  but  they  also 
all  wear  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the  same  Great  Artist, 
and  can  all  be  arranged  into  classes,  the  individuals  of  which 
bear  to  one  another  the  most  curious  and  intimate  resem- 
blances. There  is  in  nature  a  uniformity  that  is  as  beneficial 
as  variety  itself  The  leaves,  flowers,  and  fruits  of  a  tree  or 
shrub,  though  astonishingly  varied  in  their  figure  and  ap- 
pearance, are  yet  all  so  much  alike,  that  they  can  easily  be 
referred  to  their  parent  species.  Of  all  the  animals  of  a  kind 
each  has  its  peculiarities  ;  but  every  individual  can  at  once 
be  recognized  by  the  naturalist's  practiced  eye.  Thus  has 
the  Author  of  all  things  so  blended  variety  and  uniformity 
together,  as  to  delight,  yet  not  bewilder  us,  with  exhaustless 
novelty ;  to  enable  us  to  class  his  works  into  great  groups  of 
genera  and  species,  and  thereby  to  exercise  our  powers  of  rea- 
son and  observation,  in  tracing  the  delicate  resemblances  and 
disagreements  that  meet  us  in  all  our  inquiries.  In  the  clas- 
sification of  these  resemblances  and  disagreements  philosophy 
is  mainly  employed  ;  and  but  for  them,  the  active  and  inquir- 
28* 


330  FROST. 

ing  mind  of  man  would  find  no  motive  for  the  exertion  of  its 
loftier  powers.  We  live  and  move  in  a  world  of  inanimate 
substances,  infinitely  diversified  in  form,  colour,  and  chemi- 
cal properties,  and  intermingled  with  organic  structures  that 
ascend  from  the  extreme  of  simplicity  to  all  that  is  wonder- 
ful and  complex  in  contrivance,  and  that  possess  almost  every 
conceivable  diversity  in  their  essential  qualities  as  well  as 
their  modes  of  existence ;  and  to  bring  order  out  of  this 
seeming  confusion, — to  observe,  to  generalize,  and  to  classify, 
— to  note  the  limitless  variety  of  created  things,  and  yet  to 
discover  the  Divine  harmony  that  pervades  them  all,  is  the 
noble  province  of  the  philosopher,  and  even  of  the  humblest 
lover  of  Nature,  who  would  enjoy  aright  the  objects  of  his 
love,  and  adore  with  due  intelligence  the  great  Author  and 
end  of  all. 

O  Lord !  every  quality  of  thy  work  is  the  result  of  Infinite 
Wisdom.  The  grand  diversities  of  the  seasons,  with  all 
their  distinguishing  characteristics,  the  beautiful  harmony, 
and  unlimited  variety  of  nature,  alike  evince  Thy  goodness, 
and  demand  the  cheerful  gratitude  of  man.  J.  D. 


TWELFTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

IV.    FROST. EFFECTS    OF    IT   IN   THE    NORTHERN    REGIONS. 

In  passing  from  our  own  temperate  climate,  to  higher  lati- 
tudes, the  rigours  of  winter  are  exhibited  in  a  more  unmiti- 
gated form,  and  the  injurious  effects  of  cold  become  more 
apparent.  A  slight  sketch  of  the  state  of  these  regions,  in 
relation  to  the  phenomena  of  frost,  may  not  be  uninteresting. 

Many  of  our  readers  are  rendered  familiar  with  the  ap- 
pearances of  nature  in  the  northern  regions,  by  a  perusal  of 
the  writings  of  our  modern  voyagers.  From  these  some 
facts  have  already  been  selected,  relative  to  the  state  of  the 
vegetable  and  animal  worlds,  in  the  countries  they  visited ; 
but,  in  the  description  of  the  influence  of  frost  in  that  dreary 


ITS   EFFECTS   IN   NORTHERN    REGIONS.  331 

climate,  I  prefer  having  recourse  to  an  author  less  generally 
known.  Captain  Middleton  gives  a  graphic  and  minute  ac- 
count of  the  effects  of  cold  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Hudson's 
Bay,  during  winter,  which  is  applicable,  but  with  considera- 
ble aggravation,  to  the  state  of  places  still  nearer  the  pole, 
where  a  dreary  uniformity  reigns.  I  shall  abridge  this  nar- 
rative, so  as  to  afford  a  condensed  view  of  the  subject,  in  its 
most  striking  features. 

The  ground  was  frozen,  even  in  summer,  to  the  greatest 
depth  that  had  been  penetrated,  which,  however,  was  not 
more  than  ten  or  twelve  feet.  No  unfrozen  spring  of  water 
could  be  found ;  and  the  lakes  and  rivers  became  in  winter 
one  solid  cake  of  ice,  fixed  to  the  ground,  when  they  did  not 
exceed  the  depth  of  twelve  feet.  In  large  lakes  and  rivers, 
the  ice  was  sometimes  broken  by  '  imprisoned  vapours  ;'  and 
the  rocks  and  trees,  and  even  the  joists  and  rafters  of  the 
buildings,  were  not  unfrequently  burst  with  a  noise  as  loud 
as  the  firing  of  a  broadside  by  a  manof-war.  If  beer  or 
water  was  left  by  the  bedside  in  cans  or  bottles,  or  even  in 
copper  pots,  in  a  severe  night,  they  were  sure  to  be  split  in 
pieces  before  morning,  by  the  expansive  power  of  the  ice  in 
freezing.  The  air  was  filled  with  innumerable  particles  of 
ice,  very  sharp  and  angular,  and  plainly  perceptible  to  the 
naked  eye.  All  inland  waters  were  frozen  fast  by  the  be- 
ginning of  October,  and  continued  so  till  the  beginning  of 
May.  CoroncB  and  parhelia — that  is,  halos  and  mock  suns — 
were  very  frequently  observed.  The  aurora  borealis  was 
seen  almost  nightly.  It  shone  with  a  surprising  brightness, 
darkening  all  the  stars  and  planets,  and  covering  the  whole 
hemisphere  with  a  beautiful  tremulous  lustre.  Seaward,  the 
immense  icebergs  which  crowded  the  scene,  added  greatly  to 
the  interest  of  the  prospect.  Some  of  these  immense  aggre- 
gations of  ice  are  said  to  have  been  immersed  a  hundred 
fathoms*  below  the  water,  while  they  towered  nearly  a  hun- 
dred feet  above  its  surface,  and  extended  in  circumference  to 
three  or  four  miles. 

♦  This  is  probably  an  exaggeration. 


332  FROST. 

Th  "5  following  amusing  account  is  given  of  the  clothing 
with  which  Captain  Middleton  and  his  companions  defended 
themselves  from  the  intense  cold : — '  For  our  winter  dress, 
we  make  use  of  three  pairs  of  socks,  of  coarse  blanketing  or 
frieze,  for  the  feet,  with  a  pair  of  deer-skin  shoes  over  them  ; 
two  pairs  of  thick  English  stockings,  and  a  pair  of  cloth 
stockings  upon  them  ;  breeches  lined  with  flannel ;  two  or 
three  English  jackets,  and  a  fur  or  leathern  gown  over  them  ; 
a  large  beaver  cap,  double,  to  come  over  the  face  and  shoul- 
ders; and  a  cloth  of  blanketing  over  the  chin;  with  yarn 
gloves,  and  a  large  pair  of  beaver  mittens,  hanging  down 
from  the  shoulders  before,  to  put  our  hands  in,  which  reach 
up  as  high  as  our  elbows.' 

I  shall  conclude  this  description  of  the  rigours  of  a  northern 
climate,  with  the  interesting  account  gi  ven  of  a  ground-swell 
in  the  ice,  on  the  northern  coast  of  Labrador,  in  Dr.  Brown's 
'History  of  the  Propagation  of  Christianity.'  A  party  of 
Moravian  missionaries  were  engaged  in  passing  across  an 
arm  of  the  sea,  on  sledges  drawn  by  dogs.  The  first  alarm 
was  given  by  some  passing  Esquimaux,  and  afterwards  by 
their  own  attendants  ;  but  the  approach  of  danger  was  at  first 
scarcely  perceptible,  except  on  lying  down,  and  applying  the 
ear  close  to  the  ice,  when  a  hollow  grating  noise  was  heard 
ascending  from  the  abyss.  By-and-by  the  wind  rose  to  a 
storm,  and  the  swell  had  increased  so  much,  that  its  eflfects  on 
the  ice  were  extraordinary,  and  really  alarming.  '  The 
sledges,  instead  of  gliding  smoothly  along,  as  on  an  even 
surface,  sometimes  ran  with  violence  after  the  dogs,  and  some- 
times seemed  with  difficulty  to  ascend  a  rising  hill.  Noises, 
too,  were  now  distinctly  heard,  in  many  directions,  like  the 
report  of  cannon,  from  the  bursting  of  the  ice  at  a  distance. 
Alarmed  by  these  frightful  phenomena,  our  travellers  drove 
with  all  haste  towards  the  shore  ;  and  as  they  approached  it, 
the  prospect  before  them  was  tremendous.  The  ice,  having 
burst  loose  from  the  rocks,  was  tossed  to  and  fro,  and  broken 
in  a.  thousand  pieces  against  the  precipices,  with  a  dreadful 
noise  :  which,  added  to  the  raging  of  the  sea,  the  roaring  of 


ITS   EFFECTS   IN   NORTHERN   REGIONS.  333 

the  wind,  and  the  driving-  of  the  snow,  so  completely  over- 
powered them,  as  almost  to  deprive  them  of  the  use  both  of 
their  eyes  and  ears.  To  make  the  land  was  now  the  only 
resource  that  remained  ;  but  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
that  the  frightened  dogs  could  be  driven  forward  ;  and,  as  the 
whole  body  of  the  ice  frequently  sank  below  the  summits  of 
the  rocks,  and  then  rose  above  them,  the  only  time  for  land- 
ing was  the  moment  it  gained  the  level  of  the  coast, — a  cir- 
cumstance which  rendered  the  attempt  extremely  nice  and 
hazardous.  Both  sledges,  however,  succeeded  in  gaining  the 
shore,  though  not  without  great  difficult}'-.  Scarcely  had 
they  reached  it,  when  that  part  of  the  ice  from  which  they 
had  just  escaped  burst  asunder,  and  the  water,  rushing  up 
from  beneath,  instantly  precipitated  it  into  the  ocean.  In  a 
moment,  as  if  by  a  signal,  the  whole  mass  of  ice,  for  several 
miles  along  the  coast,  anxl  extending  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  began  to  break  and  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  waves. 
The  spectacle  was  awfully  grand.  The  immense  fields  of 
ice,  rising  out  of  the  ocean,  clashing  against  one  another,  and 
then  plunging  into  the  deep  with  a  violence  which  no  lan- 
guage can  describe,  and  a  noise  like  the  discharge  of  a  thou- 
sand cannon,  was  a  sight  which  must  have  struck  the  most 
unreflecting  mind  with  solemn  awe.  The  brethren  were 
overwhelmed  with  amazement  at  their  miraculous  escape  ; 
and  even  the  pagan  Esquimaux  expressed  gratitude  to  God 
for  their  deliverance.'* 


TWELFTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

V,    FROST. ITS   AGENCY   IN   MOUNTAINOUS   REGIONS. 

I  HAVE  already  mentioned,  that  water  suddenly  expands  in 
the  process  of  freezing  ;  now  the  force  with  which  the  expan- 
sion takes  place  is  immense,  as  has  been  proved  by  various 

*  Brown's  History  of  the  Propagation  of  Christianity  among  the  Hea- 
then, vol.  ii.  p.  51. 


334  FROST. 

experiments.  The  barrel  of  a  gun,  and  even  the  body  of  the 
strongest  cannon,  when  filled  to  the  muzzle  with  water,  and 
tightly  screwed  up,  have  been  found  to  burst  under  this  pro- 
cess in  a  hard  frost ;  and,  indeed,  there  does  not  appear  to  be 
any  known  power  in  the  material  world  strong  enough  to 
resist  it.  This  property  seems  to  be  one  of  the  most  active 
agents  in  breaking  down  rocks  and  diminishing  the  height 
of  mountain  ranges,  particularly  in  regions  distant  from  the 
equator.  The  water  which  penetrates  the  fissures  of  the 
rocks  during  the  early  part  of  the  winter,  is  converted  into 
ice,  and,  by  the  sudden  expansion  which  then  takes  place, 
rends  the  solid  rocks  asunder,  with  a  noise  which  is  heard 
at  the  distance  of  many  miles  ;  and,  where  the  surface  hap- 
pens to  be  precipitous,  and  the  equilibrium  is  destroyed,  the 
detached  masses,  on  the  melting  of  the  ice,  by  the  return  of 
spring,  fall  over  with  a  tremendous  crash,  and,  in  the  fearful 
avalanche,  sometimes  overwhelm  whole  villages  and  fields, 
carrying  sudden  and  inevitable  destruction  to  their  inhabit- 
ants. Most  distressing  occurrences  from  this  cause  take  place 
every  year  in  those  lofty  and  rugged  districts  where  nature 
has  formed  so  strong  a  barrier  against  the  encroachments  of 
hostile  armies,  and  where  freedom  so  long  maintained  her 
throne,  and  religion  her  purity  and  independence,  in  the 
midst  of  enslaved  and  degraded  kingdoms.  In  the  narrow 
valleys  of  the  Swiss  Cantons,  and  along  the  ravines  formed 
by  those  tributary  streams  which  supply  the  ample  currents 
of  the  Rhine  and  the  Rhone,  winter  has  terrors  altogether 
unknown  to  the  inhabitants  of  less  Alpine  territories.  Some- 
times an  avalanche  blocks  up  the  channel  between  two 
mountains,  till  the  accumulated  waters  of  weeks  or  months 
force  for  themselves  a  passage,  and,  rushing  forward  with  a 
tremendous  flood,  carry  far-spread  inundation  and  death  over 
the  smiling  and  well-peopled  valleys  below.  In  other  places, 
year  after  year,  on  the  breaking  up  of  the  winter  storms, 
rocks  and  stones  rolling  down  the  sides  of  the  mountains, 
gradually  but  surely  overwhelm  whole  districts,  which  the 
industry  of  man  had  rendered  fertile,  and  cause  them  to  be 


ITS   AGENCY    IN    MOUxNTAINOUS    REGIONS.  335 

abandoned  to  the  eagle,  the  marmot,  and  the  chamois.  These 
encroachments  are  fearful,  while  others,  of  a  description 
scarcely  less  formidable,  occur  in  different  situations  of  the 
same  interesting  ranges.  Not  unfrequently,  the  majestic 
glacier,  undermined  by  some  mountain  stream,  or  rendered 
unstable  by  the  accumulating  snows  and  frosts  of  ages,  gives 
way  in  an  instant,  and  toppling  over  from  its  giddy  height, 
tumbles  headlong  to  the  lower  grounds  ;  not  only  bearing 
extensive  destruction  in  its  fall,  but  chilling  for  many  years 
the  climate  of  all  the  surrounding  district  with  its  wintry 
breath. 

Such  calamitous  events  remind  us,  that  we  live  in  a 
world,  among  the  conditions  of  which  are  desolation  and 
suffering ;  and  they  carry  our  thoughts  upward  to  that 
happy  land  where  there  is  no  death,  no  calamity,  no  change, 
— where  trials  are  passed,  and  tears  are  wiped  away ;  and 
where  the  dark  valley,  and  the  narrow  path,  have  ended  in 
a  boundless  and  glowing  paradise  of  eternal  sunshine  and 
unfading  bloom. 

In  one  point  of  view,  the  events  I  have  adverted  to,  are  of 
importance  in  the  controversy  with  the  atheist,  who  dreams 
of  the  eternity  of  matter,  and  an  eternal  succession  of  un- 
created beings.  The  process  of  decay  which  is  so  actively 
going  on  in  our  mountain  ranges,  is  an  undeniable  proof  of 
the  comparatively  recent  formation  of  these  rugged  elevations, 
and,  by  a  necessary  consequence,  of  the  present  surface  of 
the  globe,  of  which  they  form  so  extensive  and  so  essential  a 
feature.  It  is  impossible  that  they  could  have  existed  from 
eternity,  or  even  for  any  period  to  which  the  power  of  calcu- 
lation cannot  easily  extend.  Had  the  earth  endured  without 
disruption  for  a  million  of  years,  for  example,  long  ere  now 
the  power  of  frost,  and  other  causes  of  decay,  would  have 
crumbled  to  dust  the  hardest  projecting  rocks,  levelled  the 
highest  mountains,  and  reduced  the  whole  surface  of  the 
globe  to  a  marshy  and  unwholesome  plain.  Our  world  has 
neither  existed  from  eternity,  nor  is  it  formed  for  eternal  ex- 
istence.    While  the  frost  rends  asunder  matter  subjected  to 


336  FROST. 

its  influence,  the  air  decomposes  it,  the  storm  scatters  it,  the 
rain  washes  it  away,  rivers  and  overwhelming-  torrents  carry- 
it  to  the  valleys  and  the  ocean  ;  the  formation  of  downs,  the 
fall  of  forests,  and  the  decay  of  vegetation,  are  continually 
altering  the  relative  depth  of  the  low  grounds  by  their  accu- 
mulations. '  Ages  on  ages  might  indeed  pass  away  before 
these  agents  could  produce  their  extreme  effects,  yet  that 
their  action  is  neither  inconsiderable  nor  very  slow,  innumera- 
ble observations  have  rendered  incontestable.'* 

Now,  long  before  the  earth  had  arrived  at  the  point  to 
which  it  IS  so  evidently  tending,  the  fall  of  the  mountains 
would  render  it  a  comfortless  and  noxious  habitation.  Our 
springs  and  rivers  would  be  absorbed,  and  disappear  in  fetid 
swamps  ;  the  winds  and  rains,  on  which  mountainous  districts 
produce  such  salutary  effects,  would  cease  to  be  equably  dis- 
persed; in  one  extensive  region,  the  stagnant  atmosphere, 
loaded  with  poisonous  vapours,  would  spread  pestilence  and 
death ;  and  in  another,  winds,  blowing  continually  and 
violently  from  one  point  of  the  compass,  would  shed  a  blight 
over  both  the  vegetable  and  animal  world.  The  wide-spreud 
and  desolate  Steppes  of  Russia,  in  short,  where  nothing  is 
seen  on  every  side  but  a  cheerless  and  level  waste,  and  where, 
from  horizon  to  horizon,  a  death-like  silence  reigns,  would 
be  but  a  faint  picture  of  the  miserable  scene,  which  a  de- 
cayed world  would  present  to  its  last  sickly  and  dying  inhabi- 
tants. 

But  the  earth  is  not  destined  to  arrive  at  this  state  of  feeble 
and  decrepit  age.  Thousands  of  centuries  before  that  period 
would  arrive,  its  task  will  be  accomplished,  and  its  race  run  ; 
for  the  irreversible  decree  of  the  Creator,  is,  that  at  no  distant 
period,  '  The  heavens  being  on  fire  shall  be  dissolved,  and 
the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth  also,  and 
the  works  that  are  therein,  shall  be  burnt  up.'  Yet  how 
cheering  is  the  promise  with  which  that  decree  is  accom- 
panied,— that  there  shall  be  the  creation  or  development  of 
*  new  heavens,  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteous- 
♦  Bushnan's  Study  of  Nature. 


HOAR-FROST.  337 

ness  j'  and  how  appropriate  is  the  exhortation  of  the  apostle 
'  Wherefore,  beloved,  seeing  that  ye  look  for  such  things,  be 
diligent,  that  ye  may  be  found  of  Him  in  peace,  without  spot 
and  blameless.'* 


TWELFTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

VI.    HOAR-FROST. FOLIATIONS    ON    WINDOW-GLASS.  « 

There  are  some  beautiful  appearances  which,  frost  fre- 
quently assumes,  to  cheer  us,  as  it  were,  and  give  an  agree- 
able exercise  to  our  taste,  in  the  absence  of  that  loveliness 
which  the  hand  of  an  indulgent  Creator  sheds  so  profusely 
over  our  fields  and  gardens,  in  the  genial  months  of  spring 
and  summer.  I  have  already  noticed  the  fantastic  forms 
which  ice  assumes  at  a  waterfall,  and  the  pleasure  which 
arises  in  the  mind,  on  contemplating  the  loaded  woods,  and 
the  undulating  surface  of  the  earth,  after  a  fall  of  snow.  Na- 
ture is  almost  always  either  grand  or  elegant ;  and,  when  it 
is  otherwise,  the  very  contrast  is  a  source  of  enjoyment.  In 
other  words,  the  mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  derive  pleasure 
from  all  the  aspects  of  the  external  world.  But  there  are 
some  things  bettei:  adapted  than  others  to  afford  gratification 
to  the  taste ;  and,  when  I  mention  hoar-frost,  a  thousand 
agreeable  recollections  will  arise  in  every  mind.  This  ap- 
pearance is  occasioned  by  the  freezing  of  the  mist  or  dew,t 
and  seems  to  be  the  result  of  a  process  similar  to  that  by 

*  2  Peter,  chap.  iii. 

t  The  phenomena  of  dew,  and  of  hoar-frost,  when  it  arises  from  dew, 
are  owing  to  the  radiation  of  caloric  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  without 
any  interchange  from  the  sky.  '  The  caloric  radiated  during  the  night,' 
says  Mrs.  Somerville,  '  by  substances  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  into  a 
clear  expanse  of  sky ,  is  lost,  and  no  return  is  made  from  the  blue  vault 
so  that  their  temperature  sinks  below  that  of  the  air,  whence  they  ab- 
stract a  part  of  that  caloric  which  holds  the  atmospheric  humidity  in  solu- 
tion, and  a  deposition  of  dew  takes  place.  If  the  radiation  be  great,  the 
dew  is  frozen,  and  becomes  hoar-frost,  which  is  the  ice  of  dew.' 

VOL.  IV.  29 


338  HOAR-FROST. 

which  snow  is  formed  in  the  higher  regions  of  the  atmos- 
phere. There  is  this  difference,  however,  that  the  snow  is 
formed  from  the  rain-drops  or  humid  clouds  suspended  in  the 
air,  without  any  solid  nucleus  to  whieh  they  can  adhere  ; 
while  the  hoar-frost  is  usually  elaborated  on  the  blades  of 
grass,  or  branches  of  trees,  or  other  substances  with  which 
the  moist  particles  come  in  contact.  It  is  a  well-knoAvn  law 
that  water  does  not  readily  freeze,  unless  it  have  some  solid 
substance  on  which  it  can  form.  It  is  on  this  account  that 
in  a  pond  or  lake,  we  always  see  the  first  appearance  of  ice 
either  along  its  margin,  or  shooting  out  in  long  beautiful 
feathers  from  some  random  stick  or  stone  projecting  on  its 
smooth  surface.  In  obedience  to  the  same  law,  the  watery 
particles  floating  in  the  air,  after  being  exhaled  from  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth,  although  they  are  at,  or  even  below,  the 
freezing  point,  retain  their  fluid  state  when  the  frost  is  not 
very  intense,  till  they  meet  with  something  solid,  when  they 
instantly  become  crystallized,  and  are  deposited  on  the  trees, 
the  hedges,  and  the  spreading  meadows,  in  those  elegant 
forms  which  so  far  excel  the  frost-work  of  art.  This  happens 
frequently  in  an  atmosphere  entirely  clear ;  and  indeed  a 
cloudless  sky  is  essential  lo  that  rapid  evaporation  from  the 
earth's  surface,  which  gives  rise  to  an  abundant  dew  ;  but  we 
often  observe  the  hoar-frost  also  produced  by  a  dense  haze, 
which  broods  over  the  surface  of  the  low  grounds,  during  the 
night,  in  the  form  of  a  sluggish  cloud,  and  which  is  dissipated 
by  the  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  In  this  latter  case,  the 
snowy  incrustation  is  thicker  and  more  general,  and  the 
effect  is  like  enchantment.  The  scene  which,  at  nightfall  on 
the  preceding  evening,  was  bleak  and  cheerless,  is  all  at 
once  converted  into  fairy  land.  Every  vegetable  substance, 
from  the  blades  of  grass  which  lay  drooping  in  the  naked 
fields,  to  the  polished  leaves  of  the  evergreen  and  gnarled 
branches  of  the  lofty  forest  oak,  is  suddenly  fringed  or 
clothed  with  a  garniture  of  purest  down,  whose  beauty  sur- 
passes the  poet's  dream,  and  is  scarcely  less  substantial  or  less 
fleeting. 


FOLIATIONS    ON    WINDOW    GLASS. 


339 


Another  most  beautiful  effect  of  frost,  which,  however,  is 
only  rarely  observed  in  this  climate,  where  the  alternation 
from  comparative  warmth  to  intense  cold  is  not  so  sudden  as 
in  some  other  countries,  is  finely  described  in  the  following 
well  known  passage  of  a  poetical  letter*from  Copenhagen,  by 
Mr.  Phillips  :— 

'  Ere  yet  the  clouds  let  fall  the  treasured  snow, 
Or  winds  began  through  hazy  skies  to  blow, 
At  evening,  a  keen  eastern  breeze  arose, 
And  the  descending  rain,  unsullied  froze. 
Soon  as  the  silent  shades  of  night  withdrew, 
The  ruddy  morn  disclosed  at  once  to  view 
The  face  of  Nature  in  a  rich  disguise. 
And  brightened  every  object  to  my  eyes: 
For  every  shrub,  and  every  blade  of  grass. 
And  every  pointed  thorn,  seemed  wrought  in  glass ; 
In  pearls  and  rubies  rich  the  hawthorns  show. 
While  through  the  ice  the  crimson  berries  glow ; 
The  thick-sprung  reeds,  which  watery  marshes  yield, 
Seem  polished  lances  in  a  hostile  field. 
The  stag,  in  limpid  currents,  with  surprise. 
Sees  crystal  branches  on  his  forehead  rise. 
The  spreading  oak,  the  beech,  and  towering  pine. 
Glazed  over,  in  the  freezing  ether  shine. 
The  frighted  birds  the  rattling  branches  shun. 
That  wave  and  glitter  in  the  distant  sun. 
When,  if  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  arise. 
The  brittle  forest  into  atoms  flies  ; 
The  cracking  wood  beneath  the  tempest  bends, 
And  in  a  spangled  flower  the  prospect  ends.' 

Nor  must  I  omit  to  mention  yet  another  pleasing  produc- 
tion of  frost,  in  the  elegant  and  varied  foliations  which  are 
formed  on  the  glass  of  windows.  This  appearance  takes 
place  most  remarkably  in  cases  where  the  air  within  the 
room  happens  to  have  been  much  impregnated  with  moisture, 
either  from  the  human  breath,  when  several  individuals  have 
been  collected,  or  from  any  other  cause.  The  coldness  of 
the  glass  causes  the  floating  vapour  to  be  condensed  on  its 
surface,  where  it  shoots  out,  as  it  freezes,  into  those  flowery 
crystals  which  excite  our  admiration.     The  precise  cause  of 


'  340  FROST. 

this  phenomenon  may  be  obscure,  like  every  other  pheno- 
menon of  congelation  ;  but  the  effect  is  at  once  curious  and 
pleasing ;  while,  if  we  trace  it  up  to  that  law,  of  which  it  is 
only  an  example,  it  will  acquire  a  higher  importance,  and  be 
found  to  be  connected  with  a  principle  of  vast  magnitude  in 
the  world  of  unorganized  matter  ;  for  the  crystallizing  pro- 
cess (and  freezing  is  nothing  else),  seems  to  form  the  link 
between  unorganic  and  organic  substances ;  by  the  regular 
structure  of  its  productions,  mysteriously  uniting  crude  matter 
with  the  vegetable  and  animal  creations. 

The  pious  Sturm,  in  speaking  of  this  phenomenon,  views 
it  in  a  light  different,  indeed,  but  not  less  important,  while 
his  reflection  equally  applies  to  the  other  appearances  of  frost, 
which  we  have  been  examining.  '  Can  an  object  be  con- 
sidered as  little,'  says  he,  '  when  it  furnishes  matter  for  use- 
ful reflection  ?  For  my  own  part,  I  do  not  disdain  to  read, 
even  on  the  frozen  glass,  a  truth  which  may  have  a  great 
influence  on  my  happiness.  Behold  the  flowers  which  the 
frost  has  portrayed  on  the  glass.  They  are  beautifully  and 
artificially  varied;  nevertheless,  one  ray  of  the  noonday  sun 
effaces  them.  Thus  the  imagination  paints  every  thing 
beautiful  to  us ;  but  every  thing  which  it  represents  as  at- 
tractive in  the  possession  of  the  goods  of  this  world,  is  but  a 
beautiful  image  which  shall  disappear  in  the  light  of  reason. 
The  importance  of  this  lesson  of  wisdom  was  worth  the  trou- 
ble of  stopping  for  a  while,  at  the  little  phenomenon  which 
furnishes  it.' 


TWELFTH    WEEK— THURSDAY. 

VII.   FROST. BENEFICENT  CONTRIVANCES  RELATIVE  TO  SNOW. 

As  the  influence  of  cold  is  felt  in  the  air,  as  well  as  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  and  indeed  becomes  more  intense,  in 
proportion  to  the  elevation,  it  must  affect  the  moisture  which 
floats  in  the  atmosphere.     The  rain-drops  must  freeze,  and. 


CONTRIVANCES   RELATIVE   TO   SNOW.  341 

when  frozen,  must  be  precipitated  to  the  ground.  Now, 
were  this  process  to  take  place  in  the  same  manner  as  it  oc- 
curs on  the  face  of  a  lake  or  pond,  and  were  the  water  in 
the  clouds  to  be  converted  into  solid  lumps  of  ice,  the  most 
unhappy  consequences  would  ensue,  as  may  be  inferred  from 
the  damage  occasioned  by  a  fall  of  large  hail-stones — an 
occurrence  which  sometimes,  but  rarely,  happens,  as  if  to  call 
our  attention  to  the  beneficent  provision  by  which  this  calam- 
ity is  usually  obviated.  The  fruits  of  the  earth  would  be 
destroyed  ;  or,  if  the  season  of  fruits  was  past,  at  least  the 
branches  and  embryo  buds  of  plants  and  trees  would  be 
shattered  ;  birds  on  the  wing,  or  on  the  perch,  would  be  struck 
to  the  ground,  stunned  and  dying  ;  the  more  tender  quadru- 
peds would  receive  their  death-blow ;  and  even  the  hardy 
races  of  animals,  and  man  himself,  would  not  escape  material 
injury.  None  of  these  consequences,  however,  actually  take 
place,  because  the  frozen  rain-drops  descend,  not  in  the  form 
of  ice,  or  even  usually  in  the  less  destructive  form  of  hail, 
but  on  the  downy  wings  of  virgin  snow. 

Let  us  consider,  then,  the  properties  of  snow,  and  we  shall 
not  fail  to  admire  the  wisdom  of  the  provision.  The  vapour 
floating  in  the  atmosphere  is  arrested  by  the  cold,  and  is  fro- 
zen ;  but  instead  of  running  together,  as  might  be  expected, 
into  solid  masses,  it  unites  with  the  nitrous  particles,  also  to 
be  found  mingled  with  the  air,  and,  forming  a  compound 
crystal,  shoots  out  into  beautiful  feathery  flakes.  Whoever 
will  take  the  trouble  to  examine  one  of  these  flakes  with  the 
aid  of  a  microscope,  cannot  fail  to  admire  the  elegance  and 
skill  of  its  structure.  He  will  observe  many  little  sparkling 
crosses  or  darts  radiating  from  a  point,  and  branching  off  and 
meeting  in  all  directions,  so 'as  to  form  hexagonal  lines  of 
much  beauty,  wrought,  apparently,  with  the  nicest  art,  and 
wonderfully  fitted  for  passing,  with  a  buoyant  and  flickering 
motion,  through  the  air,  so  as  to  drop,  without  disturbance, 
on  the  ground,  spreading  a  coat  of  dazzling  whiteness,  pro- 
fusely, but  gently,  over  bush  and  brake,  lawn  and  mountain. 
It  has  been  found  by  experiment,  that  '  snow  is  twenty-four 
29* 


342  FROST. 

times  lighter  than  water,  and  that  it  fills  up  ten  or  twelve 
times  more  space,  at  the  moment  of  falling,  than  the  Avater 
produced  from  it  when  melted.'*  This  is  an  admirable  con- 
trivance, to  prevent,  or  at  least  to  modify,  what  would  other- 
wise prove  a  great  evil. 

Another  useful  property  of  snow  has  been  noticed  by  many 
writers,  and  is  verified  by  yearly  experience.  Being  a  very 
imperfect  conductor  of  heat,  it  does  not  readily  descend  below 
the  freezing  point,  and  thus  tempers  the  rigour  of  the  season. 
Under  its  white  covering,  the  earth  remains  of  a  moderate 
and  equal  temperature,  and  the  bulbs  and  roots  of  plants  are 
preserved  from  the  ungenial  influence  of  a  severe  sky.  In 
consequence  of  the  same  slowness  in  the  conduction  of  heat, 
the  Arctic  traveller  can  sleep,  without  much  inconvenience, 
on  his  bed  of  snow,  which  is  warm  compared  with  the  at- 
mosphere he  breathes ;  and,  for  the  same  reason,  the  snow- 
formed  hut  affords  the  Esquimaux  no  unpleasant  abode. f 

Nor  must  we  forget  to  remark,  with  reference  to  the  effects 
of  snow  on  the  soil,  that  the  nitrous  particles  which  it  con- 
tains, are  said  to  be  of  a  fertilizing  quality,  and,  as  it  gradually 
melts,  these  particles  penetrate  the  earth,  being  carried  to  the 
roots  of  the  plants,  mingled  with  the  water  into  which  it  is 
converted.  Assuming  the  accuracy  of  this  latter  observation, 
we  shall  find  abundant  cause  for  admiring  an  arrangfement 
which,  in  various  ways,  converts  an  apparent  curse  into  a 
blessing,  changing  that  which  seems  to  be  an  aggravation 
of  this  inclement  season,  and  a  source  of  sterility,  into  a  pro- 
tection from  the  cold,  and  a  means  of  future  fruitfulness. 

But  there  is  yet  another  arrangement,  in  reference  to  this 
subject,  which  must  not  be  overlooked.  When  the  weather 
changes,  which  it  sometimes  does  very  suddenly,  the  greatest 
inconveniences,  and  even  calamities,  would  ensue,  were  the 
effect  of  this  change  to  operate,  as  might,  without  experience, 
be  expected,  in  producing  an  instantaneous  conversion  of  the 
snow  into  water.     If  the  frost  were  as  quickly  expelled  from 

*  Sturm's  Reflections,  January  26. 

t  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  p,  90. 


CONTRIVANCES    RELATIVE    TO    SNOW.  343 

water  as  from  the  air,  the  moment  that  the  temperature  rose 
above  32°,  the  snow  would  become  liquid  as  by  magic,  the 
ice  would  vanish  like  a  dream  from  the  river  and  lake,  and 
the  rigid  earth  would,  on  the  higher  grounds,  be  in  an  in- 
stant converted  into  a  swamp,  and  in  the  valleys  would  be 
overflowed,  and  swept  away  by  mountain  torrents.  A  very 
peculiar  and  remarkable  property  prevents  these  disastrous 
effects.  In  the  act  of  dissolving,  the  water  absorbs  a  quantity 
of  heat,  and  retains  it  in  a  latent  state ;  and,  on  this  account, 
the  melting  process  cannot  take  place  till  a  sufficient  quantity 
has  been  absorbed.  This  necessarily  causes  the  process  to  be 
slow ;  and  days,  and  even  weeks,  may  pass  away,  after  the 
thaw  has  begun,  before  the  ice  entirely  disappears  from  our 
ponds,  or  the  snow  from  our  hills.  The  advantageous  conse- 
quences of  this  retardation,  are  too  obvious  to  require  further 
illustration ;  but  it  is  of  importance  to  remark,  that  it  is  ef- 
fected, not  as  a  result  of  an  ordinary  and  general  law,  but 
rather  by  what  has  been  justly  called  the  apparent  violation 
of  a  law.  A  sudden  stand,  as  it  were,  is  made  in  the  pro- 
gress of  the  change.  The  alteration  of  temperature,  instead  of 
producing  its  ordinary  effects,  becomes,  all  at  once,  apparently 
feeble  and  languid  in  its  operations  ;  the  heat,  as  it  is  applied, 
disappears,  and  its  dissolving  power  is  retained  within  such 
bounds,  as  to  render  the  process  comparatively  innoxious. 

A  similar  effect  is  produced  in  the  boiling  of  water.  At 
the  boiling  point,  as  well  as  at  the  thawing  point,  a  sudden 
stoppage  takes  place,  and  the  heat  applied  becomes  latent^  so 
as  to  preserve  the  water  at  that  point,  till  it  is  gradually  car- 
ried off  in  the  form  of  steam.  It  is  this  property  which  ren- 
ders water  so  useful  in  the  various  operations  of  the  kitchen 
and  the  manufactory.  If  the  whole  volume  of  the  water  we 
employ  were  to  be  instantly  converted  into  steam,  when  it 
arrived  at  the  boiling  point,  which  would  certainly  be  the 
case,  were  it  not  for  the  peculiar  property  of  which  we  are 
speaking,  how  much  would  be  detracted  from  the  usefulness 
of  this  most  useful  element ! 

Here,  then,  we  have  a  wonderful  modification  of  a  general 


344  FROST. 

law,  the  beneficial  nature  of  which  is  as  manifest  as  the 
property  itself  is  remarkable.  Can  we  do  otherwise  than 
attribute  it  to  the  contrivance  of  an  intelligent  Creator  ? 

The  striking  appearance  of  a  landscape  covered  with  new- 
fallen  snow,  aiid  the  effects  produced  on  the  lower  animals 
by  its  fall,  are  thus  graphically  described  by  the  poet  of  the 
Seasons : — 

'  The  cherished  fields 
Put  on  their  winter  robe  of  purest  white ; 
'Tis  brightness  all,  save  where  the  new  snow  melts 
Along  the  mazy  current.     Low  the  woods 
Bow  their  hoar  heads ;  and,  ere  the  languid  sun, 
Faint  from  the  west,  emits  his  evening  ray, 
Earth's  universal  face,  deep  hid  and  chill, 
Is  one  wild  dazzling  waste,  that  buries  wide 
The  works  of  man.     Drooping,  the  labourer-ox 
Stands  covered  o'er  with  snow,  and  then  demands 
The  fruit  of  all  his  toils.     The  fowls  of  heaven. 
Tamed  by  the  cruel  season,  crowd  around 
The  winnowing  store,  and  claim  the  little  boon 
Which  Providence  assigns  them.     One  alone, 
The  red-breast,  sacred  to  the  household  gods, 
Wisely  regardful  of  the  embroiling  sky, 
In  joyless  fields  and  thorny  thickets,  leaves 
His  shivering  mates,  and  pays  to  trusted  man 
His  annual  visit.     Half  afraid,  he  first 
Against  the  window  beats ;  then  brisk  alights 
On  the  warm  hearth;  then,  hopping  o'er  the  floor 
Eyes  all  the  smiling  family  askance. 
And  picks,  and  starts,  and  wonders  where  he  is  ; 
Till,  more  familiar  grown,  the  table  crumbs 
Attract  his  slender  feet.     The  foodless  wilds 
Pour  forth  their  brown  inhabitants.     The  hare, 
Though  timorous  of  heart,  and  hard  beset 
By  death  in  various  forms, — dark  snares,  and  dogs. 
And  more  unpitying  men, — the  garden  seeks. 
Urged  on  by  fearless  want.     The  bleating  kind 
Eye  the  bleak  heaven,  and  next  the  glistening  earth 
With  looks  of  dumb  despair ;  then,  sad,  dispersed. 
Dig  for  the  withered  herb  through  heaps  of  snow.' 


SAGACITY    OF    THE    DOG   IN   SNOW.  345 

TWELFTH    WEEK— FRIDAY. 

SAGACITY    AND   FIDELITY    OF   THE    DOG   IN   SNOW. 

I  WELL  remember  with  what  delight  I  listened  to  an  in- 
teresting conversation,  which,  while  yet  a  school-boy,  I  en- 
joyed an  opportunity  of  hearing  in  my  father's  manse,*  be- 
tween the  poet  Burns,  and  another  poet,  my  near  relation, 
the  amiable  Blacklock.  The  subject  was  the  fidelity  of  the 
dog.  Burns  took  up  the  question  with  all  the  ardour  and 
kindly  feeling  with  which  the  conversation  of  that  extraor- 
dinary man  was  so  remarkably  imbued.  It  was  a  subject 
well  suited  to  call  forth  his  powers,  and,  when  handled  by 
such  a  man,  not  less  suited  to  interest  the  youthful  fancy. 
The  anecdotes  by  which  it  was  illustrated,  have  long  escaped 
my  memory;  but  there  was  one  sentiment  expressed  by 
Burns,  with  his  own  characteristic  enthusiasm,  which,  as  it 
threw  a  new  light  into  my  mind,  I  shall  ne^er  forget. 
'  Man,'  said  he, '  is  the  god  of  the  dog.  He  kno-vs  no  other ; 
he  can  understand  no  other : — And  see  how  he  worships 
him !  With  what  reverence  he  crouches  at  his  feet,  with 
what  love  he  fawns  upon  him,  with  what  dependence  he  looks 
up  to  him,  and  with  what  cheerful  alacrity  hs  obeys  him ! 
His  whole  soul  is  wrapped  up  in  his  god ;  all  the  powers 
and  faculties  of  his  nature  are  devoted  to  his  service  ;  and 
these  powers  and  faculties  are  ennobled  by  the  intercourse. 
Divines  tell  us  that  it  ought  just  to  be  so  with  the  Christian  ; 
but  the  dog  puts  the  Christian  to  shame.' 

The  truth  of  these  remarks,  which  forcibly  struck  me  at 
the  time,  have  since  been  verified  in  my  own  experience  ; 
and  often  have  events  occurred  which,  while  they  reminded 
me  that  '  man  is  the  god  of  the  dog,'  have  forced  from  me 
the  humiliating  confession,  that  '  the  dog  puts  the  Christian 
to  shame.' 

The  dog  was  certainly  created  to  be  a  compa.iion  and  as 
♦  Lochrutton  in  Galloway. 


346 


SAGACITY   AND   FIDELITY 


sistant  to  the  human  race.  It  is  well  observed  by  Goldsmith, 
that  the  generality  of  animals  have  greater  agility,  greater 
swiftness,  and  more  formidable  arms,  from  nature,  than  man ; 
their  senses,  and  particularly  that  of  smelling,  are  often  far 
more  perfect.  But  the  wisdom  and  ingenuity  of  man  fre- 
quently appropriates  to  his  own  use  the  qualities  of  the  infe- 
rior creatures,  in  which  he  is  himself  deficient,  and  thus  com- 
pensates for  his  natural  lack.  This  is  the  case  with  the  dog  ; 
the  having  gained  a  new  assistant,  in  this  sagacious  and 
quick-scented  animal,  was  the  gaining  of  new  powers,  of 
which  man  stood  in  need.  There  are  various  important  ser- 
vices rendered  to  man  by  the  dog,  which  may  be  more  pro- 
perly noticed  afterwards.  At  present  I  shall  confine  myself 
to  a  few  instances,  in  which  he  contributes,  by  his  docility, 
his  sagacity,  and  his  attachment,  to  lessen  the  dangers  of  the 
winter  storm,  or  to  mitigate,  by  his  useful  labours,  the  rigours 
of  an  ungenial  climate. 

I  begin  by  abridging  Captain  Parry's  account  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  dogs  are  employed  by  the  Esquimaux,  in  con- 
veying them  from  place  to  place  in  sledges  over  the  ice  or 
frozen  snow ; — premising  that  dogs  of  this  species  are  some- 
what  smaller  in  size  than  those  of  Newfoundland,  and  bear 
a  strong  resemblance  to  the  wolf  of  their  native  country,  and 
that  they  have  very  firm  bone  in  their  fore-legs,  with  great 
strength  in  their  loins,  two  essential  qualities  for  the  purposes 
of  draught.  When  drawing  a  sledge,  the  dogs  have  a  sim- 
ple harness  of  deer  or  seal  skin  going  round  the  neck  by  one 
bight  or  loop,  and  another  for  each  of  the  fore-legs,  with  a 
single  thong  leading  over  the  back,  and  attached  to  the  sledge 
as  a  trace.  Though  they  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  huddled 
together,  without  regard  to  regularity,  there  is,  in  fact,  con- 
siderable attention  paid  to  their  arrangement,  particularly  in 
the  selection  of  a  dog  of  peculiar  spirit  and  sagacity,  who  is 
allowed,  by  a  longer  trace,  to  precede  the  rest  as  a  leader,  and 
to  whom,  in  turning  to  the  right  or  left,  the  driver  usually 
addresses  himself  This  choice  is  made  without  regard  to 
age  or  sex,  and  the  rest  of  the  dogs  take  precedency  accord- 


OF   THE   DOG   IN    SNOW.  347 

ing  to  their  training  or  sagacity,  the  least  effective  being 
placed  nearest  the  sledge.  The  leader  is  usually  from  eigh- 
teen to  twenty  feet  from  the  forepart  of  the  sledge,  and  the 
hindmost  dog  about  half  that  distance  ;  so  that,  when  ten  or 
twelve  are  running  together,  several  are  nearly  abreast  of 
each  other.  The  driver  sits  quite  low,  on  the  fore  part  of  the 
sledge,  with  his  feet  overhanging  the  snow  on  one  side,  and 
having  in  his  hand  a  whip,  of  which  the  handle  is  eighteen 
inches,  and  the  lash  more  than  as  many  feet  in  length.  The 
men  acquire  from  their  youth  considerable  expertness  in  the 
use  of  the  whip,  the  lash  of  which  is  left  to  trail  along  the 
ground,  by  the  side  of  the  sledge,  and  with  which  they  can  in- 
flict a  very  severe  blow  on  any  dog  at  pleasure.  The  dogs 
are  kept  in  training  entirely  by  the  fear  of  the  whip  ;  but,  in 
directing  the  sledge,  it  acts  no  very  essential  part,  the  driver,  for 
this  purpose,  using  certain  words,  as  waggoners  do  with  us, 
to  make  the  dogs  turn  to  the  right  or  left.  To  these  a  good 
leader,  when  admonished  by  name,  attends  with  admirable 
precision,  at  the  same  time  looking  behind  over  his  shoulder 
with  great  earnestness,  as  if  listening  to  the  directions  of  the 
driver.  With  '  good  sleighing,'  that  is,  on  good  roads,  six  or 
seven  dogs  will  draw  from  eight  to  ten  hundred  weight,  at 
the  rate  of  seven  or  eight  miles  an  hour,  for  several  hours  to- 
gether. With  a  smaller  load  they  will  run  ten  miles  an 
hour,  and  are,  in  fact,  almost  unmanageable.  To  the  wo- 
men, who  nurse  them  when  ill,  and  treat  them  with  greater 
kindness  than  the  men,  they  are  affectionate  in  the  highest 
degree.  From  the  men  they  receive  little,  except  blows  and 
rough  treatment ; — still  they  are  faithful  and  enduring. 

Another  dog,  of  a  kind  not  dissimilar  to  that  of  the  Esqui- 
maux, performs  to  man,  in  a  different  region,  a  service  of  a 
different  kind,  for  which  still  greater  sagacity  is  necessary. 
I  allude  to  the  Alpine  spaniel,  which  is  employed  by  the 
monks  of  the  convent  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard,  on  their  er- 
rands of  humanity.  This  convent  is  situated  near  the  top  of 
that  high  mountain,  not  far  from  the  region  of  perpetual 
snow,  where  the  traveller  is  often  suddenly  overtaken  with 


348  SAGACITY    AND   FIDELITY 

the  most  severe  Aveather,  and  is  liable  to  a  thousand  acci- 
dents. 

The  sun  becomes  suddenly  darkened ;  the  wind  howls ; 
the  snow  comes  in  swirls  through  the  air,  and  drifts  up  his 
path  ;  the  fatal  avalanche  falls  from  the  impending  cliff,  and 
sweeps  trees  and  rocks  into  the  valley,  along  with  the  help- 
less passengers,  or  buries  them  deep  beneath  its  thundering 
mass.  The  pious  and  generous  monks  devo*e  themselves  in 
this  region  of  horrors  to  offices  of  humanity ;  and  in  their 
truly  christian  task  they  are  admirably  assisted  by  a  noble 
breed  of  dogs,  whom  they  have  trained,  and  keep  in  their  es- 
tablishment, for  the  purpose  of  rescuing  travellers  from  de- 
struction. Benumbed  with  cold,  weary  in  the  search  of  a  lost 
track,  his  senses  yielding  to  the  stupifying  influence  of  frost, 
which  betrays  the  exhausted  sufferer  into  a  deep  sleep,  the 
unhappy  man  sinks  upon  the  ground,  and  the  snow  drift  cov- 
ers him  from  human  sight.  It  is  then  that  the  keen  scent 
and  the  exquisite  docility  of  these  admirable  dogs  are  called 
into  action.  Though  the  perishing  man  lie  ten,  or  even 
twenty  feet  below  the  snow,  the  delicacy  of  smell  with  which 
they  can  trace  him,  offers  a  chance  of  escape.  They  scratch 
away  the  snow  with  their  feet,  and  they  set  up  a  continued 
hoarse  and  solemn  bark,  which  brings  the  monks  and  labour- 
ers to  their  assistance.  To  provide  for  the  chance,  that,  with- 
out human  help,  the  dogs  may  succeed  in  discovering  the  un- 
fortunate traveller,  one  of  them  has  a  flask  of  spirits  round 
his  neck,  to  which  the  fainting  man  may  apply  for  support, 
and  another  carries,  strapped  on  his  back,  a  cloak  to  cover 
him.  These  wonderful  exertions  are  often  successful.  One 
of  those  noble  creatures  was  decorated  with  a  medal,  in  com- 
memoration of  his  having  saved  the  lives  of  twenty-two  per- 
sons, who,  but  for  his  sagacity,  must  have  perished.  He  him- 
self, however,  met  an  untimely  fate  in  1816,  in  an  attempt  to 
convey  a  poor  Piedmontese  courier  to  his  anxious  family. 
The  traveller,  with  two  guides  and  this  remarkable  animal, 
were  descending  the  mountain,  and  some  members  of  his 


OF   THE   DOG   IN   SNOW.  349 

family  were  toiling  upward  in  search  of  him,  when  two  ava- 
lanches overwhelmed  them  all  in  one  common  destruction.* 

The  shepherd's  dog  of  Britain  is  not  less  susceptible  of 
training  than  the  Alpine  spaniel,  and  its  affection  for  its  mas- 
ter often  wonderfully  supplies  the  place  of  teaching,  and  in- 
spires it  with  a  wisdom  little  short  of  human.  Instances  in 
illustration  of  this  are  familiar  to  the  inhabitants  of  moun- 
tainous districts,  and  the  following  examples,  taken  from 
Brown's  Supplement  to  Goldsmith's  Animated  Nature,  can- 
not fail  to  interest  the  reader : — 

'  A  farmer,  near  Brechin,  having  gone,  during  a  severe 
snow-storm  in  1798,  to  visit  his  sheep,  while  employed  in 
driving  them  from  the  shelter  which  they  had  taken  beneath 
some  precipitous  rocks,  called  Ugly-Face,  was,  with  his  dog, 
buried  in  an  avalanche  of  snow,  which  fell  from  these  rocks. 
He  was  unable  to  extricate  himself,  and  fell  asleep  in  his 
desolate  situation  ;  but  his  dog  worked  his  way  out,  ran  to 
his  house,  and  by  significant  gestures,  procured  the  assistance 
of  some  of  the  inmates,  who,  following  the  dog,  were  led  to 
the  spot  where  he  was  overwhelmed  with  snow.  They  be- 
gan to  dig,  and,  by  nightfall,  found  the  farmer  in  an  erect  po- 
sition, quite  benumbed,  but  life  not  extinguished,  and  being 
rolled  in  warm  blankets,  he  soon  recovered.' 

'  About  the  year  1796,  a  farmer,  at  Rolling,  in  Kent,  was 
returning  late  from  Maidstone  market,  in  a  state  of  intoxica- 
tion. He  went  astray  from  the  road,  about  half  a  mile  from 
Willow-Walk,  and  becoming  completely  benumbed,  he  fell 
among  the  snow,  in  one  of  the  coldest  nights  ever  known. 
Turning  on  his  back,  he  was  soon  overpowered  with  sleep, 
in  such  circumstances  the  usual  concomitant  of  cold.  His 
dog,  that  had  followed  closely  after  him,  now  scratched  away 
the  snow  from  about  him,  so  as  to  form  a  protecting  wall 
round  his  person,  and  then  lay  down  on  his  master's  breast, 
for  which  its  shaggy  coat  proved  a  seasonable  protection  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  night,  and  the  snow  which  continued 

*  Foot  Note  to  Goldsmith's  '  Animated  Nature,'  Brown's  edition,  vol. 
u.  p.  207. 

VOL.  IV.  30 


350 


SAGACITY    AND    FIDELITY 


to  fall.  On  the  following  morning,  a  person  having  gone  out 
with  the  expectation  of  falling  in  with  some  wild  fowl,  had 
his  notice  attracted  by  the  uncommon  appearance,  and,  on 
coming  up,  the  dog  encouraged  him,  by  the  most  significant 
gestures,  to  approach.  He  wiped  the  icy  incrustations  from 
the  face  of  the  farmer,  whom  he  then  recognized,  and  had 
him  conveyed  to  the  nearest  house  in  the  village,  where  ani- 
mation was  soon  restored.' 

The  last  instance  which  I  give  of  this  kind  of  sagacity,  is 
abridged  from  the  same  work,  and  shows  still  more  remark- 
able proofs  of  persevering  attachment.  Eric  Runtson,  an 
Iceland  fisherman,  left  his  home  early  on  a  December  morn- 
mg,  to  visit  a  friend,  accompanied  only  by  his  faithful  dog, 
Castor.  When  he  had  proceeded  about  five  miles,  he  fell 
into  a  deep  chasm,  and  alighted,  unhurt,  on  a  shelving  part 
of  the  rock,  about  sixty  feet  below  the  surface.  Castor  ran 
about  in  all  directions,  howling  piteously.  He  even  several 
times  made  as  if  he  would  leap  down,  but  was  prevented  by 
his  master  scolding  him.  He  then  whined,  and  looked  from 
the  brink  into  the  chasm,  as  if  anxious  to  receive  his  master's 
commands.  After  spending  the  whole  day  in  fruitless  endea- 
vours to  reach  and  extricate  his  master,  a  sudden  thought 
seemed  to  seize  him,  and  he  darted  off  in  the  direction  of 
home,  which  he  reached  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  inmates 
were  asleep,  but,  by  scratching  violently  at  the  door,  he  gained 
admittance.  At  first,  the  family  apprehended  nothing,  but 
that  he  had  left  his  master,  and  returned  ;  but,  by  his  refusing 
food,  and  constantly  continuing  to  scratch  Eric's  younger 
brother,  Jon,  with  his  paw,  and  then  to  run  to  the  door,  and 
look  back  with  eager  and  anxious  yells,  he  at  last  succeeded 
in  exciting  their  alarm  ;  and  when  Jon  and  another  man 
dressed  and  followed  him,  he  began  to  bark  and  caper  about 
with  evident  joy.  At  one  time,  the  tempestuous  weather  led 
them  to  think  of  retracing  their  steps  ;  but  Castor,  on  their 
turning  back,  expressed  the  utmost  dissatisfaction,  and,  by 
pulling  them  by  the  clothes,  induced  them  to  proceed.  He 
conducted  them  to  the  chasm  where  poor  Eric  was  entombed, 


OF    THE    DOG    IN    SNOW.  351 

andj  beginning  to  scratch,  signified,  by  the  most  expressive 
howl,  that  his  master  was  below.  Eric  answered  to  Jon's 
call ;  and  a  rope  being  procured,  he  was  safely  drawn  up, 
when  Castor  rushed  to  his  master,  and  received  his  caresses 
with  all  the  marks  of  triumph  and  joy. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  a  poem  written  on  a  traveller  who, 
some  years  ago,  was  killed  by  falling  over  a  precipice  on 
Helvellyn,  and  whose  faithful  dog  watched  many  days  by  his 
lifeless  corpse,  thus  feelingly  describes  the  attachment  of  that 
interesting  animal : — 

'  Dark  green  was  that  spot  'mid  the  brown  mountain  heather, 
Where  the  pilgrim  of  Nature  lay  stretched  in  decay, 
Like  the  corpse  of  an  outcast  abandoned  to  weather. 

Till  the  mountain  winds  wasted  the  tenantless  clay: — 

Nor  yet  quite  deserted,  though  lonely  extended, 

For  faithful  in  death  his  dumb  favourite  attended. 

The  much-loved  remains  of  her  master  defended. 

And  chased  the  hill- fox  and  the  raven  away. 

*  How  long  didst  thou  think  that  his  silence  was  slumber  ! 

When  the  wind  waved  his  garments  how  oft  didst  thou  start  1 
How  many  long  days  and  long  nights  didst  thou  number  1 

Ere  he  faded  before  thee,  the  friend  of  thy  heart ! 
Say,  oh  !  was  it  meet  that,  no  requiem  read  o'er  him. 
No  mother  to  weep,  and  no  friend  to  deplore  him, 
And  thou,  little  guardian,  alone  stretched  before  him, 

Unhonour'd,  the  pilgrim  from  life  should  depart.' 

The  more  we  know  of  this  wonderful  species,  the  greater 
reason  shall  we  find  to  praise  that  beneficent  Being,  who 
gave  the  dog  to  man  as  his  companion  and  friend,  and  the 
greater  indignation  shall  we  feel  against  the  worse  than  bru- 
tal human  beings,  who,  abusing  the  devotion  of  this  most  af- 
fectionate and  docile  creature,  give  to  their  half  human  at- 
tendants no  return  of  kindness  ;  but  treat  them  with  cruelty, 
and  recompense  their  good  offices  with  blows. 


352  GEOLOGY. PHENOMENA    CONSISTENT 


TWELFTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

I.    GEOLOGY. ITS     PHENOMENA     CONSISTENT    WITH    THE     MOSAIC 

ACCOUNT   OF    THE    CREATION. 

The  existence  of  mountains,  which,  in  the  volume  on 
Spring,  will  be  shown  to  be  a  most  beneficent  arrangement, 
modern  geology  has  proved  to  be  owing  to  a  general  disrup- 
tion of  the  original  crust  of  the  earth.  On  its  first  formation, 
the  surface  of  our  globe  must  have  been  a  plain,  or,  at  least, 
very  nearly  approaching  to  it.  The  rocks  and  minerals  of 
which  it  is  now  composed,  are,  on  good  grounds,  believed  to 
have  been  originally  in  a  liquid  state ;  and,  whether  fire  or 
water  were  the  agents  employed,  or  if,  what  is  more  proba- 
ble, both  of  them  were  employed  either  separately  or  together, 
the  strata  of  the  earth  must,  by  the  law  of  gravitation,  have 
been  formed  horizontally,  and  the  surface  must  then  have 
been  level.  This  introduces  us  to  a  most  curious  and  inter- 
esting subject ;  and  I  intend  to  devote  a  few  papers  to  a  rapid 
view  of  the  discoveries  of  the  geologist ;  but  before  entering 
on  this  alluring  field,  it  seems  proper  to  advert  to  the  attack 
which  has  been  made  by  infidel  writers  on  the  Mosaic  ac- 
count of  the  creation  ;  that  this  matter  being  put  on  its  pro- 
per footing,  we  may  be  enabled  to  proceed  with  safety  and 
freedom. 

These  writers  allege,  that  there  are  incontrovertible  proofs 
of  the  existence  of  the  world  before  the  era  assigned  to  the 
Mosaic  creation  ;  and  that  all  geological  appearances  concur 
in  bearing  evidence,  that  many  existences,  both  organized  and 
unorganized,  instead  of  being  created  in  six  days,  have  been 
successively  produced  and  remodelled  in  the  course  of  many 
hundreds,  perhaps  thousands,  of  ages. 

Now,  granting  all  this  lo  be  distinctly  established, — for  I 
do  not  think  it  necessary  to  dispute  the  general  view  thus 
stated,  much  less  am  I  inclined  to  call  in  question  the  facts 
by  which  it  is  supported, — there  are  two  ways  by  which 


WITH   MOSAIC    ACCOUNT    OF   CREATION.  353 

these  appearances  have  been  attempted  to  be  reconciled  to 
the  Mosaic  account.  The  first  and  ordinary  way  is,  by  sup- 
posing that  the  six  days  mentioned  by  Moses  as  the  period  in 
which  Creative  power  was  exerted,  may  be.  interpreted  to 
mean  so  many  ages  of  indefinite  extent :  and  in  support  of 
this  opinion  there  are  not  wanting  plausible  arguments. 
The  word  day  is  assuredly  often  taken  in  Scripture  to  signify 
an  age  or  an  era ;  thus,  we  read  of  '  an  acceptable  day,'  and 
'  a  day  of  vengeance  ;'  and,  still  more  distinctly,  of  '  the  latter 
day,'  'the  day  of  judgment,'  and  'the  day  of  salvation  ;' — all 
which  expressions  are  evidently  meant  to  indicate,  jjot  a  na- 
tural day  of  twenty-four  hours,  but  a  peculiar  period  in  the 
actings  of  God's  providence.  Again  it  has  been  argued  that 
the  various  works  assigned  to  each  day,  when  taken  for  an 
era,  correspond,  with  wonderful  exactness,  to  the  geological 
indications  ;  the  choas,  when  all  the  elements  were  in  a  mixed 
and  turbid  state ;  the  separation  of  the  principle  of  light ;  the 
subsidence  of  the  waters,  and  the  appearance  of  dry  ground  ; 
the  creation  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  ;  then  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  sea  ;  then  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  land  ;  and,  last 
of  all,  of  man  ; — seem  to  follow  in  the  precise  order  of  suc- 
cession which  the  various  periods  marked  by  the  labours  of 
the  geologist  appear  very  clearly  to  sanction.  All  this  might 
appear  to  be  satisfactory,  were  it  not  that  the  sacred  writer 
seems  anxiously  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  such  an  expla- 
nation, by  ending  the  account  of  each  day's  operation  in  these 
words,  '  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  first — 
(the  second,  the  third,  &c.) — day  ;'  a  mode  of  expression 
which  seems  very  emphatically  to  confine  the  duration  of  the 
work,  in  each  instance,  to  a  natural  day,  or  a  revolution  of 
the  earth  on  its  axis, — although  this,  doubtless,  may  then 
lave  been  much  more  tardy  than  it  is  at  present. 

This  method  of  getting  quit  of  the  difficulty,  seeming, 
therefore,  to  be  untenable,  we  are  bound  to  receive  the  Mo- 
saic account  of  the  creation  in  the  natural  and  unstrained 
sense  of  the  words,  as  an  inspired,  and  therefore  true  repre- 
sentation of  the  succession  of  visible  appearances  on  each  of 

30* 


354  GEOLOGY. PHENOMENA    CONSISTENT 

the  six  days  of  this  first  week  of  time,  as  connected  with  the 
system  in  which  man  was  brought  into  existence ;  but  the 
inquiry  is  still  open, — whether  or  not  the  materials  of  which 
our  present  world  is  composed,  might  have  been  made  use 
of  by  the  Eternal  Creator  at  a  period,  or  during  a  succession 
of  periods,  previous  to  that  of  the  creation  recorded  by  Moses. 

In  looking  at  the  account  contained  in  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis,  with  this  inquiry  in  our  minds,  what  do  we  see  1 
First  of  all,  we  have  an  affirmation  in  general  terms,  that 
God  is  the  Creator  of  all  things ;  for  I  think  it  will  be  readi- 
ly conceded,  that  nothing  more  than  this  is  meant  by  the  ex- 
pression, '  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the 
earth.'  Then  follows  a  declaration,  that  immec>iately  before 
the  commencement  of  the  Mosaic  creation,  the  materials  of 
which  the  new  world  was  to  be  composed  were  already  in 
existence,  but  in  a  chaotic  state.  '  The  earth  was  without 
form  and  void,  and  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep.' 
Nothing  is  said  of  the  preceding  state  of  this  chaos  ;  because 
the  business  of  the  sacred  historian  lay  entirely  with  the 
world  as  it  now  exists ;  but,  undoubtedly,  there  is  here  no 
assertion  which  precludes  the  previous  use  of  the  materials, 
on  which  the  Almighty  was  now  beginning  to  operate ;  on 
the  contrary,  the  very  existence  of  these  materials,  if  it  does 
not  imply,  at  least  renders  plausible  the  supposition,  that  they 
may  at  some  still  earlier  period  have  been  employed  in  some 
other  manifestations  of  the  Divine  perfections. 

Now,  if  we  are  permitted  to  take  this  view,  all  the  objec- 
tions of  the  geologist,  arising  from  the  appearances  which  in- 
dicate the  existence  of  organized  and  living  beings  long  be- 
fore the  era  of  man,  vanish  at  once.  Should  it  be  found,  that 
for  many  thousands,  or  even  millions  of  years,  the  matter  of 
the  earth  was  in  existence  before  the  creation  of  the  human 
race,  and  that  it  had  been  made  use  of  by  Him  whose  being 
is  from  eternity,  as  the  habitation  of  other  modes  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life,  in  many  successive  epochs,  and  with  a  con- 
stant progression  towards  higher  powers  and  more  perfect 
forms,  such  facts,  so  far  from  invalidating  the  Mosaic  account, 


WITH   MOSAIC    ACCOUNT    OF   CREATION.  355 

seem  perfectly  consistent  with  the  analog-y  of  revealed  reli- 
gion, which  is  itself  progressive,  and  the  belief  of  them  is 
even  favoured  by  the  manner  in  which  the  account  of  what 
must  then  be  considered  as  the  latest  creation,  is  introduced. 

This  is  the  view,  then,  which  I  am  disposed  to  take,  though 
I  am  quite  aware  that  some  highly  ingenious  attempts  have 
been  made  to  reconcile  all  geological  appearances  to  the 
opinion  that  the  materials  of  the  world  did  not  exist  previous 
to  the  Mosaic  account, — of  the  soundness  of  which  I  shall  at 
present  say  nothing.  In  any  case,  the  evidence  of  Scripture, 
which  rests  on  separate  grounds,  and  is  unimpeachable,  must 
be  received  as  paramount.  Let  every  human  system,  how- 
ever plausible,  perish,  which  contradicts  the  word  of  eternal 
truth.     Magna  est  Veritas  et  prccvalebit.^ 

*  After  this  and  the  succeeding  papers  on  Geology  were  written,  and 
while  the  first  edition  of  this  work  was  going  through  the  press,  Dr. 
Buckland  published  his  highly  interesting  and  valuable  Bridgewater 
Treatise.  It  is  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  to  observe  that  this  intelligent 
author  has  adopted  the  same  view  with  myself,  as  to  the  mode  of  recon- 
ciling the  Mosaic  account  with  the  discoveries  of  Geology, — a  view  which 
he  states  himself  to  have  long  entertained,  and  to  have  previously  given 
to  the  world  in  his  Inaugural  Lecture,  in  1820.  He  also  quotes  some 
other  authors  as  agreeing  with  him  in  this  method  of  reconciliation,  such 
as  Dr.  Chalmers,  Bishop  Gleig,  a  writer  in  the  Christian  Observer,  &c. 
My  own  opinion,  which  was  formed  independently  of  these  writers,  I  can 
now  advance  with  greater  confidence.  Dr.  Buckland  enters  into  some 
details  of  the  six  days  of  creation,  supported  by  critical  notices  on  the 
Hebrew  text,  by  the  Regius  Professor  of  Hebrew  in  Oxford  (Pusey), 
which  are  very  satisfactory.  It  is  shown  that  the  Hebrew  word  {para), 
which  we  translate  'created,'  does  not  necessarily  signify /ormec?  out  of 
nothing,  though  it  is  a  stronger  word  than  asah,  made :  and  it  is  also 
stated,  that  when,  in  the  fourth  commandment,  it  is  declared  that,  '  in 
six  days  the  Lord  made  heaven  and  earth,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them 
is,'  the  word  employed  is  not  hara,  but  asah,  from  which  it  appears  that 
it  expresses  nothing  more  than  '  a  new  arrangement  of  materials  which 
existed  before.'  Indeed,  if  we  are  strictly  to  interpret  the  word  'create,' 
as  signifying  made  out  of  nothing,  it  cannot  apply  to  the  work  of  any 
of  the  six  days,  which  consisted  in  the  act  of  forming  out  of  materials 
already  in  existence. 


356  DIFFICULTY    OF   COMPREHENDING 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

ON    THE    DIFFICULTY    OF    COMPREHENDING    THE    OPFJIATIONS    OF 
PROVIDENCE. 

We  have  been  contemplating  the  perfections  of  the  Crea- 
tor, as  exhibited  in  His  works.  Let  us  pause  a  little  on  this 
day,  set  apart  for  devotional  exercises,  and  turn  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  same  perfections,  as  exhibited  in  His  moral 
government. 

One  of  the  first  things  that  strikes  the  mind  in  adverting  to 
this  subject,  is  the  difficulty  of  comprehending  God's  dealings 
with  his  rational  creatures.  We  immediately  discover,  that 
*  His  ways  are  not  as  our  ways,  nor  his  thoughts  as  our 
thoughts.'  A  peculiar  mystery  hangs  over  his  operations, 
when  we  examine  them  by  the  unassisted  light  of  reason  ; 
and  this  mystery  is  greatly  modified,  although  it  is  not  alto- 
gether removed,  when  revelation  adds  its  clearer  light.  This 
every  inquiring  mind  must  have  felt,  in  considering  the  vari- 
ous questions  connected  with  the  existence  of  moral  evil.  Let 
us  look,  then,  at  the  sources  of  this  mystery,  and  we  shall 
find  them  all  resolving  themselves  into  this  one  fact, — the 
infinite  transcendency  of  the  Divine  perfections. 

The  wise  and  good  among  men  frequently  act  on  princi- 
ples which  are  not  obvious  to  their  inferiors,  who  are  not 
capable  of  entering  into  their  exalted  views.  Can  it  be  mat- 
ter of  surprise,  then,  that  the  feeble  and  groveUing  race  of 
Adam  should  be  found  incapable  of  entering  into  the  councils 
of  Him  who  is  infinitely  wise,  and  infinitely  good  ?  As  in 
His  own  nature  he  is  incomprehensible,  so  in  the  operations 
of  His  providence  He  may  be,  and,  indeed,  He  frequently 
must  be,  influenced  by  motives  far  above  our  conception. 
As  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  His  ways 
higher  than  our  ways,  and  His  thoughts  than  our  thoughts.' 
He  acts  from  the  infinite,  eternal,  and  unchangeable  impulse 


THE   OPERATIONS   OF   PROVIDENCE.  357 

of  His  own  mind.  The  highest  angels  are  infinitely  beneath 
Him.  Even  they  cannot  fathom  the  depth  of  His  counsels. 
No  wonder,  then,  that  we  should  often  be  confounded  in 
our  attempts  to  scan  His  character,  and  comprehend  His 
views.  « 

We  shall  be  better  able  to  understand  the  extent  of  the 
difficulty,  if  we  enter  into  particulars,  and  consider  some  of 
the  ways  in  which  the  providence  of  God  operates  on  His 
rational  creatures.  God  is  omniscient.  He  knows  our  frame? 
and  '  understands  our  thoughts  afar  off.'  He  forms  no  super- 
ficial or  unjust  judgment  of  our  character  and  motives,  as  we 
short-sighted  mortals  do  in  regard  to  our  fellow  men.  He 
knows,  for  instance,  whether  our  actions  proceed  from  selfish 
or  benevolent  motives ;  whether  a  sense  of  duty  or  a  love  of 
human  approbation  lies  at  the  bottom  of  our  conduct ; — 
whether  worldly  possessions  improve  or  corrupt  our  hearts. 
He,  therefore,  knows,  what  we  cannot  distinctly  know, — the 
kind  of  discipline  we  require  to  train  us  for  heaven  ;  and  He 
accommodates  the  operations  of  His  providence  to  this  know- 
ledge. He  comforts  us  with  hope,  or  encourages  us  with 
success,  or  blesses  us  with  enjoyment,  and  causes  His  '  candle 
to  shine  on  our  head,'  just  to  the  extent  to  -which  He  sees 
these  earthly  blessings  will  be  really  useful  to  us.  And,  on 
the  other  hand.  He  mortifies  us  with  disappointment,  or  hum- 
bles us  with  disgrace,  or  chastens  us  with  ^poverty,  or  warns 
us  by  sickness,  or  causes  the  loss  of  all  that  was  nearest  and 
dearest  to  our  hearts, — that  He  may  thus  call  us  to  serious 
reflection,  and  break  the  ties  which  bind  us  to  the  earth,  and 
lead  us  to  place  our  treasure,  and  fix  our  affections,  in  hea- 
ven. And  all  this  He  frequently  does,  without  our  being 
able  to  understand  His  reasons,  because  we  are  ignorant  both 
of  our  own  character  and  wants,  and  of  the  character  and 
wants  of  others. 

Nor  is  this  all.  God  is  acquainted  with  the  ultimate  con- 
sequences of  all  events.  He  traces  every  thing  to  its  most 
remote  effects.  It  is  not  merely  the  advantage  of  a  day,  or  a 
month,  or  a  year,  that  He  regards.     He  looks  forward  to  the 


358  DIFFICULTY     OP    COMPREHENDING 

most  distant  futurity,  and,  with  unerring  certainty,  calculates 
the  precise  bearing  of  every  present  event  on  ages  yet  to  come. 
It  is  a  most  solemn  consideration,  thai  there  is  not  an  action  of 
our  lives,  nor  a  word  which  we  utter,  nor  even  a  thought  which 
passes  through  our  hearts,  that  may  not  be  pregnant  with  im- 
portant consequences, — with  consequences  which  may  not  only 
deeply  affect  ourselves,  but  others  ;  which  may  be  productive 
of  good  or  evil,  not  merely  in  our  own  immediate  circle,  but, 
sometimes,  even  to  the  community  among  whom  we  dwell, 
and  the  age  in  which  we  live.  Nor  does  the  influence 
necessarily  stop  here,  it  may  extend  to  distant  posterity. 
These  consequences  we  cannot  see,  but  God  estimates  them 
all.  Every  word,  every  look  of  ours,  the  all-seeing  Eye 
follows  through  all  its  effects  on  the  character  of  our  children, 
and  friends,  and  neighbours  ;  and  thence,  again,  on  the  senti- 
ments and  conduct  of  others  influenced  by  them  ;  and,  fur- 
ther still,  on  those  of  their  children,  and  their  children's  chil- 
dren, to  the  latest  generations.  How  infinitely  is  this  beyond 
the  grasp  of  the  human  mind  ! 

Again,  the  Eternal  not  only  knows  the  effects,  but  the 
relations  and  comparative  value  of  all  things.  Men  view 
events  under  a  perverted  aspect, — judging  of  their  importance 
more  by  their  nearness  or  their  distance,  than  by  their  in- 
trinsic worth.  Through  the  false  medium  of  passion  or  of 
prejudice,  we  are  apt  to  magnify  or  contract  the  dimensions 
of  objects,  and  to  form  an  opinion  of  them  altogether  different 
from  the  reality.  We  shall  be  more  sensible  of  this,  if  we 
reflect,  for  a  moment,  on  the  different  sentiments  with  which 
we  regard  death,  when  we  hope  that  this  event  is  distant,  and 
when  we  perceive  or  imagine  it  to  be  near  ;  or,  indeed,  if 
we  consider  the  general  tendency  of  the  mind  to  form  a  fool- 
ish attachment  to  temporal  things,  in  preference  to  those  things 
that  are  eternal. 

But  none  of  these  prejudices  and  prepossessions  obstruct  or 
deceive  the  vision  of  the  Almighty.  Those  things  which 
occupy  the  attention  of  our  worldly  minds.  He  sees  in  all 
their  emptiness  and  frivolity ;  the  heavenly  treasures  which 


THE    OPERATIONS    OF    PROVIDENCE,  359 

we  regard  with  such  indifference,  He  views  in  their  infinite 
magnitude  and  importance ;  and  all  these,  with  unerring 
wisdom,  He  adjusts  (independent  of  the  vain  wishes  of  men), 
SO  as  to  promote  the  greatest  good.  Here  is  another  obvious 
source  of  inadequate  comprehension  on  our  part. 

We  must  further  remember,  that  these  unsearchable 
operations  are  not  confined  to  the  welfare  of  individuals. 
They  embrace  the  interests  of  nations, — of  the  earth, — of  the 
universe  !  While  there  is  not  a  living  being  in  creation  to 
whom  the  paternal  care  of  the  Creator  does  not  extend,  He 
views  the  world  as  a  whole,  and  so  regulates  every  part,  as 
either  to  promote  the  happiness  of  all,  or  to  visit  them  with 
retributive  justice.  What  a  wonderful  conception  is  this ! 
From  the  worm  to  man,  from  man  to  the  archangel,  all  are 
linked  together  in  the  councils  of  God ;  and,  while  there  is 
not  one  of  all  these  creatures  whom  He  does  not  care  for,  as 
if  there  were  no  other  being  to  occupy  his  attention,  all  are 
governed  as  one  great  family,  of  which  each  member  has  its 
own  department,  and  in  which  one  great  design  is  constantly 
kept  in  view, — the  perfection  and  happiness  of  the  whole. 

Nor  must  we  forget,  that  the  schemes  of  the  Self-existent 
are  not  bounded  by  time,  but  embrace  eternity.  In  the  pres- 
ent world,  the  moral  government  of  God  is  only  begun. 
That  may  appear  imperfect  and  disordered,  of  which  we  only 
see  a  part,  when,  if  the  whole  were  displayed  and  under- 
stood, every  minute  particular,  and  the  united  result  of  the 
whole,  would  be  found  to  be  the  perfection  of  wisdom. 

He  who  has  seen  a  powerful  and  complicated  system  of 
machinery  in  operation,  of  which  he  was  only  permitted  to 
examine  a  small  part,  may  form  some  idea  of  the  effect  of  so 
partial  a  view  of  the  operations  of  Providence.  He  saw  an 
apparently  confused  and  unwieldy  mechanism,  of  which  he 
neither  understood  the  principle  nor  the  use.  Wheels  on 
wheels,  moving  in  seeming  disorder, — valves  opening  and 
shutting, — levers  straining — ^beams  revolving, — while  fire 
and  water  combined  their  mysterious  powers.  He  perceived, 
in  short,  an  immense  expense  of  labour  and  ingenuity, — and 


360  GEOLOGY. 

all  for  what  ?  He  could  not  tell :  He  observed  amazing 
powers  in  operation  ;  he  heard  a  grating  and  astounding 
noise, — and  that  was  all.  But  were  he  admitted  into  the 
upper  apartments,  where  the  effects  of  all  these  operations  is 
displayed,  what  a  different  opinion  would  he  form  ?  How 
would  he  admire  the  talents  which  could  so  control  the 
powers  of  nature,  as  to  give  man  a  force  immensely  superior 
to  his  own,  and  add  to  the  resources,  and  ensure  the  -pros- 
perity, not  of  individuals  only,  but  of  the  whole  empire  ! 

And  so  it  is  with  the  operations  of  Providence.  Here  we 
see  but  a  part,  and  that  a  very  small  part,  of  the  machinery 
by  which  He  conducts  the  moral  government  of  the  world. 
Even  if  we  could  understand  all  the  relations  of  temporal 
things,  we  could  not  understand  their  bearings  on  eternity. 
Some  glimpses,  indeed.  Revelation  has  afforded  us  into  that 
upper  apartment,  where  the  whole  scheme  is  consummated, 
and  where  the  ways  of  God  are  vindicated  to  his  creatures  ; 
but  how  imperfect  and  how  inadequate !  Let  us  look  for- 
ward with  eagerness  and  hope  to  the  approaching  period, 
when  the  veil  shall  be  removed  from  our  eyes,  and '  we  shall 
know  even  as  we  are  known.' 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— MONDAY. 

II,    GEOLOGY. SUCCESSIVE   PERIODS    OF   DEPOSIT. 

AssuivuNG  the  existence  of  matter  from  an  indefinite  period 
before  the  commencement  of  the  Mosaic  creation,  let  us  at- 
tend to  the  opinions  which  have  been  adopted  by  modern 
geologists,  from  views  founded  on  the  knowledge  they  have 
acquired  of  the  crust  of  the  earth. 

It  should  seem,  according  to  these  inquiries,  that  there  are 
three  well  marked  periods  in  the  primitive  history  of  our 
globe,  during  which  the  most  extensive  changes  have  taken 
place  on  its  surface,  and  fresh  deposits  have  been  made. 
The  order  of  time  in  which  these  changes  have  been  effected, 


SUCCESSIVE   PERIODS   OF    DEPOSIT.  361 

can  be  fixed,  as  is  supposed,  with  considerable  precision.  We 
are  first  informed,  that  there  was  what  may  be  called  the 
primitive  era,  or  period  of  granite,  when  this  species  of  rock, 
with  other  stony  substances,  and  the  wide-spread  ocean  from 
which,  in  the  process  of  ages,  extensive  deposits  of  sand  were 
made,  seems  to  have  covered  the  whole  face  of  the  earth, 
forming  a  cheerless  and  gloomy  waste,  destitute  of  organized 
existences,  and  void  of  life.  This  epoch  is  said  to  have  been 
followed  by  another  period  of  long  duration,  in  which  some 
violent  convulsions  have  taken  place,  and  active  powers  have 
been  at  work,  efTecting  extensive  changes,  without  appearing, 
during  its  continuance,  to  have  settled  down  'into  a  perma- 
nent state :  hence  called  the  transition  period.  It  is  during 
this  period,  that  the  first  rudiments  of  vegetable  and  animal 
existences  seem  to  have  taken  their  origin,  as  the  lowest  kind 
of  organized  beings  are  found  embedded  in  its  deposits. 

'  Beginning  with  the  animal  kingdom,'  says  Dr.  Buckland, 
'  we  find  the  four  great  existing  divisions  of  Vertehrata^  Mol- 
lusca,  Articulata,  and  Radiata,  to  have  been  coeval  with  the 
commencement  of  organic  life  upon  our  globe.  No  higher 
condition  of  Vertebrata  has  yet  been  discovered  in  the  transi- 
tion formation  than  that  of  fishes.'  '  The  Mollusca,  in  the 
transition  series,  afford  examples  of  several  families,  and 
many  genera,  which  seem  at  that  time  to  have  been  univer- 
sally diff'used  over  all  parts  of  the  world.'  '  The  earliest  ex- 
amples of  Articulated  animals  are  those  afforded  by  the  ex- 
tinct family  of  Trilobites.'  These  seem  to  have  perished  at 
the  end  of  this  series.  '  The  Radiated  animals  are  among 
the  most  frequent  organic  remains  in  the  transition  strata. 
They  present  numerous  forms  of  great  beauty.'  Of  the  vege- 
table kingdom  in  this  earliest  period  of  organized  existences, 
Dr.  Buckland  says,  '  In  the  inferior  regions  of  this  series) 
plants  are  few  in  number,  and  principally  marine  ;  but  in  its 
superior  regions,  the  remains  of  land  plants  are  accumulated 
in  prodigious  quantities.'  They  form,  in  their  destruction,  a 
great  part  of  our  m*esent  coal-fields,  and  many  strata  of  the 
carboniferous  order  contain  subordinate  beds  of  a  rich  argilla- 

VOL.  IV.  31 


362  GEOLOGY. 

ceous  iron  ore.  '  A  formation,'  adds  our  author, '  that  is  at 
once  the  vehicle  of  two  such  valuable  mineral  productions 
as  coal  and  iron,  assumes  a  place  of  the  first  importance 
among-  the  sources  of  benefit  to  mankind  ;  and  this  benefit  is 
the  direct  result  of  physical  changes  which  affected  the  earth 
at  those  remote  periods  of  time,  when  the  first  forms  of  vege- 
table life  appeared  upon  its  surface.' 

Resting  on  the  transition  rocks,  and  therefore  believed  im- 
mediately to  succeed  them  in  the  era  of  their  deposition,  come 
the  rocks  of  what  has  been  called  the  secondary  epoch,  dur- 
ing which,  along  with  a  distinct  and  peculiar  vegetation,  ani- 
mals have  existed,  chiefly  the  inhabitants  of  the  waters,  or 
saurian  reptiles,  of  gigantic  forms,  partly  marine,  partly  am- 
phibious, and  partly  terrestrial ;  and  at  the  same  period  also, 
have  lived  mammalia  of  the  marsupial  order,  and  some  testu- 
dinata  and  feathered  tribes  ;  as  not  only  their  petrified  re- 
mains, but  what  is  still  more  remarkable,  the  marks  of  their 
footsteps  on  sandstone  have  recently  been  found  to  testify. 
Dr.  Buckland,  in  speaking  of  fossil  Testudinata,  says, '  The 
remains  of  land  tortoises  have  been  more  rarely  observed  m 
a  fossil  state.  Cuvier  mentions  but  two  examples,  and  these 
in  very  recent  formations,  at  Aix,  and  in  the  Isle  of  France. 
Scotland  has  recently  afforded  evidence  of  the  existence  of 
more  than  one  species  of  these  terrestrial  reptiles,  during  the 
period  of  the  new  red  or  variegated  sandstone  formation. 
The  nature  of  this  evidence  is  almost  unique  in  the  history 
of  organic  remains.'  In  a  foot  note  he  states  that  a  discovery 
of  fossil  footmarks,  similar  to  that  made  at  Corncocklemuir, 
which  was  communicated  by  me  in  1828,  to  the  Edinburgh 
Royal  Society,  has  recently  been  made  in  Saxony,  at  the  vil- 
lage of  Hessberg,  near  Hildburghausen,  in  several  quarries 
of  grey  quartzose  sandstone,  alternating  with  beds  of  red 
sandstone,  nearly  of  the  same  age  with  that  of  Dumfriesshire, 
of  which  notices  have  been  given  by  Dr.  Hohnbaum,  Pro- 
fessor Caup,  and  Dr.  Sickler.  In  another  place  he  also  men- 
tions foot-marks  of  several  extinct  specks  of  birds,  having 
very  lately  been  found  by  Professor  Hitchcock,  in  the  new  red 


SUCCESSIVE    PERIODS    OF    DEPOSIT.  363 

sandstone  of  the  Valley  of  Connecticut,  one  of  them  of  a 
species  of  enormous  dimensions,  which  took  a  stride  of  six 
feet.  On  the  subject  of  these  discoveries,  with  particular  al- 
lusion to  that  in  Corncocklemuir,  Dr.  Buckland  has  the  fol- 
lowing: eleo-ant  observations  : — '  The  historian  or  the  anti- 
quary  may  have  traversed  the  fields  of  ancient  or  of  modern 
battles,  and  may  have  pursued  the  line  of  march  of  trium- 
phant conquerors,  whose  armies  trampled  down  the  most 
mighty  kingdoms  of  the  world.  The  winds  and  storms  have 
utterly  obliterated  the  ephemeral  impressions  of  their  course. 
Not  a  track  remains  of  a  single  foot  or  a  single  hoof,  of  all 
the  countless  millions  of  men  and  beasts,  whose  progress 
spread  desolation  over  the  earth.  But  the  reptiles  that  crawled 
upon  the  half-finished  surface  of  our  infant  planet,  have  left 
memorials  of  their  passage  enduring  and  indelible.  No  his- 
tory has  recorded  their  creation  or  destruction  ;  their  very 
bones  are  found  no  more  among  the  fossil  relics  of  a  former 
world.  Centuries  and  thousands  of  years  may  have  rolled 
away,  between  the  time  in  which  these  footsteps  were  im- 
pressed by  tortoises  upon  the  sands  of  their  native  Scotland, 
and  the  hour  when  they  are  again  laid  bare,  and  exposed  to 
our  curious  and  admiring  eyes.  Yet  we  behold  them  stamped 
upon  the  rock,  distinct  as  the  track  of  the  passing  animal 
upon  the  recent  snow  ;  as  if  to  show  that  thousands  of  years 
are  but  as  nothing  amidst  eternity  ; — and,  as  it  were,  in  mock- 
ery of  the  fleeting  perishable  course  of  the  mightiest  poten- 
tates among  mankind.' 

To  the  secondary  period,  again,  is  believed  to  have  suc- 
ceeded another  epoch,  during  which  rocks,  of  what  is  called 
the  tertiary  formation,  have  been  deposited,  and  animals,  as 
well  as  plants,  of  a  larger  and  more  perfect  kind,  and  ap- 
proaching nearer  to  those  of  our  own  era,  have  existed. 

The  tertiary  epoch  has  recently  been  divided  into  four 
periods,  founded  on  the  proportions  which  their  fossil  shells 
bear  to  marine  shells  of  existing  species.  During  the  first 
period,  these  productions  exhibit  but  a  small  resemblance  to 
our  present  orders,  but  this  resemblance  increases  through 


364  GEOLOGY. 

each  successive  period,  till  the  greater  proportion  of  the  fossil 
species  come  to  bear  a  distinctly  marked  affinity  to  present 
existences.  A  similar  remark  may  be  made  with  regard  to 
the  inhabitants  of  the  land.  By  far  the  greater  proportion 
of  the  genera  which  existed  during  the  earliest  period  of  this 
epoch,  are  now  extinct,  while  the  terrestrial  animals  of  the 
latest  period  have  very  generally  antitypes  in  the  living  spe- 
cies of  our  own  era.  '  It  appears,'  says  Dr.  Buckland,  '  that 
at  this  epoch  the  whole  surface  of  Europe  was  densely  peo- 
pled by  various  orders  of  Mammalia,  that  the  numbers  of  the 
herhivora  were  maintained  in  due  proportion  by  the  control- 
ling influence  of  carnivora ;  and  that  the  individuals  of  every 
species  were  constructed  in  a  manner  fitting  each  to  its  own 
enjoyment  of  the  pleasures  of  existence,  and  placing  it  in  due 
and  useful  relations  to  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms 
by  which  it  was  surrounded.'  He  then  concludes  his  obser 
vations  on  the  tertiary  series  with  the  following  just  and 
striking  remarks  : — '  Every  comparative  anatomist  is  famil- 
iar with  the  beautiful  examples  of  mechanical  contrivance  and 
compensations  which  adapt  existing  species  of  herbivora  and 
carnivora,  to  their  own  peculiar  place  and  state  of  life.  Such 
contrivances  began  not  with  living  species.  The  geologisi 
demonstrates  their  prior  existence  in  the  extinct  forms  of  the 
same  genera,  which  he  discovers  beneath  the  surface  of  the 
earth ;  and  he  claims  for  the  Author  of  these  fossil  forms,  un- 
der which  the  first  types  of  such  mechanisms  were  embodied, 
the  same  high  attributes  of  wisdom  and  goodness,  the  demon- 
stration of  which  exalts  and  sanctifies  the  labours  of  science, 
in  her  investigations  of  the  organizations  of  the  living  world.' 
This  latter  period  is  believed  to  have  immediately  pre- 
ceded the  Mosaic  creation,  and  to  have  ended  in  some  uni- 
versal catastrophe,  which  entirely  broke  up  and  deranged 
the  whole  face  of  the  earth,  destroying  all  vegetable  and 
animal  life,  and  reducing  the  whole  materials  of  the  globe 
to  that  state  of  chaos  which  the  sacred  historian  so  briefly, 
but  emphatically  describes,  when  he  says,  that  '  the  earth 


SUCCESSIVE    PERIODS    OF   DEPOSIT.  365 

was  without  form  and  void,  and  darkness  was  on  the  face  of 
the  deep.' 

It  would  be  inconsistent  with  my  plan  to  enter,  with  any 
minuteness,  into  a  detail  of  the  arguments  by  which  geolo- 
gists maintain  the  truth  of  these  views  ;  but  I  may  mention, 
in  a  single  sentence,  that  the  rocks  called  primary,  obtain  this 
name,  because,  though  they  frequently  are  found  to  have 
burst  through  all  the  other  strata  of  which  the  crust  of  the 
earth  is  composed,  and  even  to  overtop  them  all,  forming  our 
most  elevated  mountain  ranges,  yet  they  uniformly  dip  deeper 
down  below  the  earth's  surface  than  all  the  rest,  and  form 
the  substratum  on  which  the  others  recline.  Immediately 
above  these,  lies  the  transition  deposit,  then  the  secondary, 
and  then  the  tertiary  formations.  The  obvious  conclusion 
is,  that,  if  we  may  at  all  suppose  successive  periods  of  deposit, 
these  periods  must  have  occurred  in  the  order  we  have  de- 
scribed ;  and  the  existence  of  peculiar  forms  of  organized  be- 
ings, connected  respectively  with  these  periods,  while  it 
strangely  excites  curiosity,  and  gives  a  very  deep  and  myste- 
rious interest  to  the  subject,  by  opening  up,  as  it  were,  a 
glimpse  into  former  worlds,  cannot  readily  be  accounted  for 
in  any  other  way  than  by  the  hypothesis  of  successive  epochs 
and  successive  creations.  If,  indeed,  the  plants  and  animals 
of  one  formation  were  found  intermingled  with  those  of  an- 
other, there  might  be  some  ground  for  hesitation.  But  this 
is  not  the  case  ;  and,  what  is  particularly  worthy  of  remark, 
it  appears  that  the  whole  individuals  of  the  organized  beings, 
which  existed  during  those  primeval  periods,  had  been  des- 
troyed before  the  era  of  the  Mosaic  creation,  none  of  such 
species  being  in  existence  at  the  present  day. 

What  a  surprising,  and  at  the  same  time  consistent,  view 
does  this  unfold,  of  the  operations  of  the  Eternal  Mind.  We 
have  been  accustomed  to  think  of  the  Self-existing  Being  as 
only  beginning  to  exert  his  creative  energies,  within  the  last 
six  thousand  years,  when  our  globe  was  brought  out  of  a 
state  of  chaos,  and  the  human  race  was  formed.  But  it  is 
natural  for  the  inquiring  mind  to  ask,  if  it  be  indeed  true  that 
31* 


366  GEOLOGY. SUCCESSIVE   PERIODS    OF 

an  eternity  had  passed  before  the  Almighty  displayed  his 
perfections,  by  calling  worlds  into  existence,  and  exercising 
over  them  that  paternal  care  which  is  so  conspicuous  and  so 
endearing  in  the  present  state  of  things.  This  inquiry  we 
may  not  be  able  satisfactorily  to  answer ;  but  it  is  undoubt- 
edly a  step  towards  the  solution  of  the  question,  to  discover, 
that  the  materials  of  which  the  present  earth  is  composed, 
have  been  employed  by  the  Creator,  in  previous  periods  of 
unknown  but  vast  duration,  in  the  formation  of  other  worlds, 
of  which  other  beings,  strangers  to  the  existing  earth,  were 
denizens  ;  and  we  seem  to  acquire  a  more  sublime  idea  of 
the  Divine  perfections,  when  we  think  of  those  primeval 
times,  'in  which  plants  and  flowers,  now  totally  unknown, 
adorned  the  face  of  nature,  and  rose  to  luxuriance  under 
warmer  suns  ;  in  which  animals  of  different  forms  and  spe- 
cies, roamed  the  woods  and  forests ;  and  in  which  the  ocean 
rolled  its  billows,  and  the  finny  tribes  found  food  and  enjoy- 
ment, where  now  fertile  fields  wave  with  grain,  and  the  lofty 
trees  of  the  forest  throw  their  boughs  towards  heaven,  and 
man  and  beast  tread  the  solid  ground,'* 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— TUESDAY. 

III.    GEOLOGY. SUCCESSIVE     PERIODS    OF    ORGANIZED    EXIS- 
TENCES. 

If  the  view  of  our  modern  geologists,  which  I  have  adopt- 
ed, be  correct,  there  is  something  exceedingly  interesting, 
and  certainly,  as  I  have  already  observed,  not  inconsistent 
with  the  character  of  the  Creator,  as  we  read  it  inscribed  on 
His  works,  in  the  gradual  development  of  the  powers  of  na- 
ture, and  in  the  adaptation  of  living  beings  to  the  progress 
of  that  development.  '  In  the  beginning,'  the  earth  was,  ac- 
cording to  this  hypothesis,  created  a  mass  of  inert  matter, 
perhaps  in  a  liquid  state  from  excessive  heat,  but  crystallizing 
*  Study  of  Nature,  p.  202. 


ORGANIZED   EXISTENCES.  367 

as  it  cooled,  till  the  whole  crust  of  the  globe  was  comprised 
in  the  two  great  divisions  of  sea  and  crystallized  rocks,  sur- 
rounded with  an  atmosphere.  This  was  its  primitive  state ; 
and,  under  these  circumstances,  neither  vegetables  nor  ani- 
mals could  exist ;  but,  being  intended  for  the  habitation  of 
living  beings,  the  powers  inherent  in  matter  were  employed 
in  breaking  down,  abrading,  and  disuniting  the  harder  sub- 
stances, so  as  to  form  soil  fit  for  the  maintenance  of  vegetable 
produce  ;  and  thus,  in  process  of  time,  it  passed  into  the  trans- 
ition state.  No  sooner  was  the  globe,  to  this  extent,  prepar- 
ed, than  vegetables  were  created  by  the  Almighty  hand  ;  and 
food  being  thus  produced  for  living  creatures,  these  also  were 
called  into  being,  with  faculties  and  endowments  admirably 
fitted  for  the  earth,  as  it  then  was.  Still  the  process  of  de- 
composition and  crumbling  down  went  on,  till  the  world  be- 
came fitted  for  a  new  change.  A  catastrophe,  therefore,  took 
place,  by  which  all  organized  existences  were  destroyed  and 
submerged  ;  and,  by  a  most  wonderful  provision,  these  were 
laid  up  in  storehouses,  as  it  were,  below  the  surface,  for  the 
future  use  of  the  rational  creatures  which  were,  in  the  succes- 
sion of  ages,  to  be  created,  being  meanwhile,  by  pressure  and 
disintegration  converted,  the  marine  productions  into  lime, 
and  the  produce  of  the  land  into  coal.  And  now  a  new  ope- 
ration of  creative  wisdom  takes  place.  More  nourishing 
qualities  have  been  infused  into  the  waters  of  the  sea,  and  the 
surface  of  the  earth  has  acquired  more  fertile  powers,  by 
which  the  whole  globe  is  fitted  for  the  maintenance  of  higher 
species  of  plants  and  animals.  They  are  accordingly  produ- 
ced. A  more  noble  and  luxuriant  vegetation  clothes  the  face 
of  the  earth.  Living  creatures,  of  gigantic  proportion,  swim 
in  the  ocean,  or  frequent  the  vast  swamps  and  marshes  which 
compose  its  shores,  or  feed  among  the  mighty  palms  and 
ferns  which  spring  up  on  the  elevated  grounds.  But  the 
wonderful  plan  formed  in  the  Eternal  Mind,  is  not  yet  com- 
pleted. Another  period  elapses,  in  which  further  changes 
have  been  going  on,  and  continued  -preparations  have  been 
making.     At  length  new  epochs  arrive,  and  new  catastro- 


368  GEOLOGY. SUCCESSIVE    PERIODS    OF 

phes  take  place.  Again  and  again  the  surface  of  the  globe 
is  broken  up  ;  its  vegetable  and  animal  productions  are  again 
and  again  entombed,  to  add  to  the  stores  of  the  higher  race 
destined  to  appear  in  a  new  era  and  a  renovated  world. 

Last  of  all,  the  time  arrives,  Avhen  the  globe  is  fitted  for  a 
race  of  rational  creatures.  '  The  earth  is  without  form  and 
void.'  The  elements  are  commixed,  and  thickest  darkness 
broods  over  the  profound  abyss.  God  speaks  ;  it  is  light,  and 
the  clouds  ascend.  He  speaks  again  ;  the  solid  foundations 
of  the  world  are  disturbed ;  an  irresistible  force  heaves  the 
ancient  granite  from  its  bed,  causing  it  to  shake  off  the  super- 
incumbent strata  which  ages  had  formed,  and  to  throw  aloft 
its  rugged  peaks,  till  they  threaten  to  penetrate  the  sky.  The 
waters  subside,  and  are  gathered  together.  An  effectual 
separation  is  thus  made  between  the  seas  and  the  dry  land, 
and  a  new  character  is  given  to  the  earth's  surface,  which  fits 
it  for  its  coming  destiny.*  Once  more  the  Creator  utters 
his  voice.  '  The  earth  brings  forth  grass,  the  herb  yielding 
seed,  and  the  fruit-tree  yielding  fruit.'  Yet  again  the  com- 
mand is  issued,  and  the  clearing  atmosphere  gives  free  ad- 
mittance to  the  direct  rays   of  the   sun,   moon,   and  stars. t 

*  '  It  is  marvellous  that  mankind  should  have  gone  on  for  so  many 
centuries  in  ignorance  of  the  fact,  which  is  now  so  fully  demonstrated, 
that  no  small  part  of  the  present  surface  of  the  earth  is  derived  from  the 
remains  of  animals,  that  constituted  the  population  of  the  ancient  seas. 
Many  extensive  plains  and  massive  mountains  form,  as  it  were,  the  great 
charnel-houses  of  preceding  generations,  in  whi:;h  the  petrified  exuvise 
of  extinct  races  of  animals  and  vegetables  are  piled  into  stupendous 
monuments  of  the  operations  of  life  and  death,  during  almost  immeasura- 
ble periods  of  past  time.'  '  "  At  the  sight  of  a  spectacle,"  says  Cuvier, 
"  so  imposing,  so  terrible  as  that  of  the  wreck  of  animal  life  forming 
almost  the  entire  soil  on  which  we  tread,  it  is  difficult  to  restrain  the  im- 
agination from  hazarding  some  conjectures  as  to  the  causes  by  which  such 
great  eflects  have  been  produced." ' — Buckland's  Eridgewater  Treatise, 
p.  112. 

+  Speaking  of  the  14th,  and  four  succeeding  verses  of  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis,  Dr.  Buckland,  in  agreement  with  what  is  stated  in  the  text, 
thus  argues  : — '  What  is  herein  stated  of  the  celestial  luminaries,  seems  to 
be  spoken  solely  with  reference  to  our  planet,  and  more  especially  to 


ORGANIZED    EXISTENCES;.  369 

Thus  is  the  world  once  more  prepared  as  the  residence  of 
living  beings ;  and  they  are  created.  The  broad  spread  sea 
and  swelling  earth  teem  with  animation  ;  and,  last  of  all, 
Man  is  formed  in  the  image  of  God.  His  Creator  '  breathes 
into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  and  he  becomes  a  living 
soul :' — the  lord  of  this  nether  sphere  stands  confessed. 

Such  is  the  progress  which,  according  to  modern  geology, 
corrected  by  the  lights  of  Scripture,  has  formed  the  earliest 
history  of  creation.  The  system,  perhaps,  deserves  no  higher 
name  than  that  of  a  theory  ;  but  it  is  a  beautiful  and  consis- 
tent theory,  which  accounts  for  many  facts,  and  is  contra- 
dicted, so  far  as  I  know,  by  none.  It  is  exceedingly  gratify- 
ing to  human  genius  to  have  thus  found  the  means  of 
penetrating  beyond  the  darkness  of  ancient  chaos,  and  the 
confusion  of  mingled  elements ;  and  it  is  not  less  instructive 
than  gratifying,  to  be  able  to  trace,  even  in  these  mysterious 

the  human  race,  then  about  to  be  placed  upon  it.  We  are  not  told  that 
the  substance  of  the  sun  and  moon  were  first  called  into  existence  upon 
the  fourth  day.  The  text  may  equally  imply  that  these  bodies  were  then 
prepared,  and  appointed  to  certain  offices  of  high  importance  to  mankind : 
"  to  give  hght  upon  the  earth,  and  to  rule  over  the  day,  and  over  the 
night;"  "to  be  for  signs,  and  for  seasons,  and  for  days,  and  for  years." 
The  fact  of  the  creation  had  been  stated  before  in  the  first  verse.  The 
stars  also  are  mentioned  (Gen.  i.  16),  in  three  words  only,  almost  paren- 
thetically, as  if  for  the  sole  purpose  of  announcing  that  they  also  were 
made  by  the  same  Power  as  those  luminaries  which  are  more  important 
to  us — the  sun  and  the  moon.  The  interpretation  here  proposed  seems, 
moreover,  to  solve  the  difficulty  which  would  otherwise  attend  the  state- 
ment of  the  appearance  of  light  on  the  first  day,  while  the  sun  and  moon 
and  stars  were  not  made  to  appear  until  the  fourth.  If  we  suppose  all 
the  heavenly  bodies  and  the  earth  to  have  been  created  at  the  indefinitely 
distant  time  designated  by  the  word  "  beginning,"  and  that  the  darkness 
described  on  the  evening  of  the  first  day,  was  a  temporary  darkness, 
produced  by  an  accumulation  of  dense  vapours  "  upon  the  face  of  the 
deep,"  an  incipient  dispersion  of  these  vapours  may  have  readmitted  light 
to  the  earth,  upon  the  first  day,  while  the  exciting  cause  of  hght  was  still 
obscured;  and  the  further  purification  of  the  atmosphere,  upon  the 
fourth  day,  may  have  caused  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars  to  reappear  in 
the  firmament  of  heaven,  to  assume  their  new  relations  to  the  newly 
modified  earth,  and  to  the  human  race.' 


370 


GEOLOGY. 


primeval  times,  the  designing  hand  of  Infinite  Wisdom 
and  Goodness  ;  to  see  the  very  same  character  impressed  on 
the  works  of  the  Creator,  in  such  incalculably  remote 
periods,  which  we  mark  with  so  much  delight  in  the  history 
of  the  world,  since  that  latest  epoch,  in  which  the  human 
race  was  formed,  the  chief  of  His  terrestrial  works  ;  and  in 
which  subordinate  organized  beings,  in  a  scale  descending 
by  almost  imperceptible  links,  till  they  become  confounded 
with  inanimate  matter,  Avere  associated  with  them. 

One  objection  I  anticipate.  Why,  it  may  naturally  be 
asked,  this  progression  and  long  delay?  Why  was  that 
Infinite  Power  not  put  forth  at  once,  which  was  to  form  the 
world  in  its  highest  state  of  perfection?  Could  not  the  same 
Almighty  power,  which,  according  to  this  theory,  formed  the 
earth  an  inert  mass,  and  left  the  development  of  its  produc- 
tive qualities  to  a  succession  of  ages,  have  called  it  into  being, 
in  all  its  glory,  by  a  single  word  ?  Undoubtedly  it  could  ; 
and  the  reason  of  a  different  mode  of  operation  may  be  in- 
scrutable by  the  human  mind.  But  who  does  not  see  that 
such  progression  is  in  accordance  with  the  usual  analogy  of 
the  Divine  operations  ;  and  that  the  very  same  objection 
might  be  urged  against  the  progress  of  society  in  the  arts  and 
in  civilization  ;  against  the  gradual  unfolding  of  the  eternal 
decrees  in  the  history  of  revealed  religion ;  against  the  slow 
growth  of  an  oak ;  or  against  the  tardy  expansion  of  the  hu- 
man powers  through  the  various  stages  of  infancy,  youth,  and 
manhood.  Time  is,  even  with  man,  but  a  relative  term.  In 
the  counsels  of  Him,  with  whom  '  a  thousand  years  are  but 
as  one  day,'  it  dwindles  to  a  point. 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— WEDNESDAY. 

IV.    GEOLOGY. STATE    OF    THE    ANTEDILUVIAN    WORLD. 

The  arrangements  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  in  its  antedi- 
luvian state,  were,  doubtless,  in  many  respects,  diflierent  from 


STATE    OF   THE    ANTEDILUVIAN   WORLD.  371 

what  they  are  at  present.  I  do  not  allude  to  its  state  as  it 
came  first  from  the  hands  of  its  Creator,  when  all  things 
bore  the  recent  impress  of  a  Divine  hand,  when  Paradise 
bloomed,  and  the  gentle  air  breathed  balm,  and,  on  the  young 
vegetable  and  animal  world,  the  blessing  of  a  benignant 
Heaven  shed  peace,  grandeur,  and  loveliness  ;  but  I  speak 
of  it  after  the  blight  of  an  alienated  Deity  had  fitted  it  for 
the  habitation  of  a  fallen  and  guilty  race,  who  were  to  earn 
their  subsistence  amidst  toil  and  care,  strangers  and  pilgrims 
on  their  native  earth,  and  under  training,  by  a  course  of  dis- 
cipline, for  new  states  of  existence  in  another  sphere. 

Of  the  actual  condition  of  the  antediluvian  world,  we  have 
scarcely  any  recorded  materials  from  which  we  can  draw 
correct  geological  conclusions.  We  are  informed,  however, 
that  the  life  of  man  extended  to  a  period  of  tenfold  greater 
duration  than  it  does  at  present,  which  indicates  a  much 
greater  salubrity  of  the  atmosphere  ;  and  it  is  remarkable,  that 
the  organic  remains  of  that  first  period  of  the  human  history, 
correspond  with  this  indication.  The  state  of  the  air  and  of 
the  seasons,  which  was  so  healthful  for  man,  may  readily  be 
supposed  to  have  been  equally  favourable  to  the  nourishment 
of  other  organized  existences  ;  and  if  we  are  to  look  for  proofs 
from  geology  to  confirm  the  assertion  of  the  sacred  volume 
on  this  point,  we  must  seek  for  it  in  a  greater  luxuriance  in 
the  growth  of  plants  and  animals.  Man,  himself,  who  seems 
not  to  have  arrived  at  the  period  of  puberty  before  sixty  or 
seventy  years  of  age,  was  probably  of  superior  stature, — a 
conjecture  which  is  confirmed  by  the  existence  of  giants,  as 
we  are  expressly  assured,  both  before  the  flood,  and  for  some 
time  after  it.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  remarkable,  that 
we  have  undoubted  proofs,  from  antediluvian  remains,  that 
many  of  the  organized  existences  of  that  period  were  of  much 
greater  dimensions  than  are  now  to  be  found,  either  in  the 
vegetable  or  animal  kingdoms.  Tropical  plants  seem  to 
have  spread  over  our  temperate  regions  in  great  luxuriance 
of  vegetation  ;  and  among  animals  there  are  found,  in  these 
regions,  some  of  immense  proportions,  whose  species  are  now 


372  GEOLOGY. 

extinct,  or,  if  still  existing,  as  in  the  case  of  the  tapir,  are 
greatly  diminished  in  size.  From  these  facts,  we  have  evi- 
dence that  the  antediluvian  climate  was  peculiarly  genial, 
and  therefore  we  need  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  far 
more  favourable  to  human  life,  than  the  mingled  and  polluted 
atmosphere  in  which  we  at  present  exist.* 

*  In  this  view  of  the  superior  salubrity  of  the  antediluvian  climate,  the 
author  is  directly  opposed  to  the  speculations  of  Bishop  Sheriock,  who 
imagines  that  the  curse  pronounced  on  the  ground,  rested  upon  it  '  in  all 
its  rigour,  only  till  the  flood,  up  to  which  period  it  rendered  the  work  and 
toil  necessary  to  raise  from  the  ground  a  sufficient  support  for  life,  a  griev- 
ous and  irksome  burden ;'  but  that,  after  this  catastrophe,  that  part  of 
the  curse  which  referred  to  the  soil  was  removed,  and  the  world  was,  in 
this  respect  restored  to  its  primeval  beauty  and  fertility.  This  strange 
notion  rests  for  its  support  on  two  texts  of  Scripture,  the  first  of  which  is 
the  reason  given  by  Lamech  for  naming  his  first-born  son  Noah,  which 
means  comfort,  viz. '  This  same  shall  comfort  us  concerning  our  work  and 
toil  of  our  hands,  because  of  the  ground  which  the  Lord  hath  cursed,' 
(Gen.  V.  29).  Those  who  have  noted  the  custom  which  prevailed  from 
the  earliest  times,  of  recording  a  reason  for  the  naming  of  children  at  or 
soon  after  their  birth,  will  scarcely  see  in  this  passage  any  thing  more 
than  the  delight  and  pious  gratitude  of  a  father,  for  the  gift  of  a  son  who 
should  assist  him  in  his  agricultural  labours.  The  Bible  is  full  of  similar 
birth-day  sayings;  thus  Eve  called  her  first-born  son  Cain,  which  signi- 
fies gotten,  for  she  said,  'I  have  gotten  a  man  from  the  Lord;'  and  when, 
after  the  murder  of  Abel,  she  had  another  son,  she  called  him  Seth,  which 
signifies  appointed.  '  For  God,'  said  she,  '  hath  appointed  me  another 
seed,  instead  of  Abel,  whom  Cain  slew,'  Many  other  instances  might  be 
mentioned. 

The  other  text  on  which  Sherlock  builds  his  theory,  can  scarcely  be 
considered  of  greater  weight.  It  is  the  promise  contained  in  the  two 
last  verses  of  the  eighth  chapter  of  Genesis.  '  I  will  not  again  curse  the 
ground  any  more  for  man's  sake,  neither  will  I  again  smite  any  more 
every  thing  living  as  I  have  done.  While  the  earth  remaineth,  seed-time 
and  harvest,  and  cold  and  heat,  and  summer  and  winter,  and  day  and 
night  shall  not  cease.'  The  Bishop  argues  that  these  words  intimate  the 
removal  of  the  curse,  and  the  restoration  of  a  greater  stability  of  the  sea- 
sons ;  but  surely  this  is  an  unwarranted  stretch  of  the  meaning  of  a  text 
which  simply  declares  that  no  such  calamity  as  the  flood  shall  ever  again 
visit  the  earth.  The  vigour  of  the  human  constitution,  in  the  antedilu- 
vian ages,  which  is  distinctly  asserted,  is  alone  suflScient  to  overturn  the 
Bishop's  theory ;  and  the  same  thing  seems  to  follow  from  the  fact,  that 


STATE    OF   THE    ANTEDILUVIAN    WORLD.  373 

In  another  respect,  too,  the  aspect  of  the  antediluvian  world 
must  have  been  considerably  different  from  its  present  state. 
Since  that  early  period,  a  deluge  has  swept  over  its  surface 
with  tremendous  force,  levelling  hills,  filling  up  valleys, 
scooping  out  ravines,  altering  the  bed  of  the  ocean,  and  blot- 
ting out,  perhaps,  whole  continents  from  the  map  of  the  world? 
while  it  raised  others  in  their  place.  By  the  action  of  this 
great  catastrophe,  very  large  additions  must  have  been  made 
to  the  productive  soil  of  the  earth,  from  the  effects  of  detri- 
tion ;  but  even  then  the  soil  appears  to  have  been  abundant, 
at  least  in  many  and  extensive  portions  of  the  globe ;  and, 
whatever  changes  have  been  made,  of  which  we  shall  speak 
more  particularly  in  another  paper,  the  general  character  of 
the  terraqueous  globe,  and  its  inhabitants,  must  have  been, 
with  the  exceptions  already  hinted  at,  nearly  the  same  as  at 
present.  There  was  not  only  an  abundant  vegetation  on 
its  surface,  but  there  were  metals  (brass  and  iron)  which  the 
labour  of  man  could  reach,  and  his  ingenuity  could  con- 
vert to  his  use.  Fire  must  have  been  employed  in  smelting 
and  manufacturing  these  metals ;  and  from  the  slight  hints 
which  the  sacred  historian  affords,  it  would  appear,  that  the 
domestic  arrangements  of  families  could  not  have  greatly  dif- 
fered from  our  own. 

This  may  suffice  as  a  rapid  introduction  to  the  changes 
which  I  shall  next  have  occasion  to  notice, — those  which 
were  occasioned  by  the  universal  deluge.  Meanwhile,  what 
a  wonderful  period  have  we  been  surveying ! — a  new  world 
of  organized  beings  has  been  created,  and  has  perished.  It 
came  fair  and  perfect  from  the  hands  of  its  Creator.  Through- 
out its  whole  bounds,  there  was  no  evil,  no  deformity,  no 
death.  The  eye  of  the  Almighty,  as  he  beheld  His  work, 
^  saw  that  it  was  good.'  It  was  created  for  the  happiness  of 
every  living  creature,  and  it  completelj?-  answered  the  end. 
Every  thing  in  the  complicated  machinery  of  Nature,  was 

the  gifl  of  animal  food  was  not  added  to  that  of  vegetables,  till  after  the 
flood, — an  indication  of  the  superior  fertility  and  abundance,  in  the  ear- 
liest ages,  of  plants  fit  for  human  subsistence. 
VOL.  IV.  32 


374  GEOLOGY. 

with  the  nicest  skill  adjusted  to  all  the  rest,  so  that  there  was 
no  jarring,  no  interference.  All  was  peace,  and  harmony, 
and  joy.  But  the  adversary  and  destroyer  came.  By  a 
mysterious  providence,  he  was  permitted  to  prevail.  Moral 
evil  was  introduced  into  the  rational  creation,  and  a  new  or- 
der of  things  arose,  A  state  of  universal  blessedness  was 
converted  into  a  state  of  human  discipline.  New  adjustments 
became  necessary,  and  were  accomplished.  The  animal  and 
vegetable  world,  the  earth,  the  sea,  and  the  air,  were  all  ac- 
commodated to  this  wonderful  revolution.  Wintry  storms 
desolated  the  land,  and  chafed  the  raging  sea ;  earthquakes 
shook  the  solid  globe  ;  volcanoes  poured  forth  their  liquid 
fire  ;  lightnings  flashed,  and  thunder  rent  the  sky  ; — decom- 
position, decay,  and  death,  became  the  common  law  of  orga- 
nized existences  ; — while  man,  the  guilty  author  of  all  this 
disorder,  refusing  to  learn  under  the  rod,  waxed  only  more 
and  more  rebellious,  till  the  whole  world  was  filled  with  vio- 
lence, and  the  measure  of  his  iniquity  being  full,  the  sentence 
came  forth  from  the  Creator, '  Behold,  T,  even  I,  do  bring  a 
flood  of  waters  upon  the  earth,  to  destroy  all  flesh,  wherein 
IS  the  breath  of  life,  from  under  the  heavens;  and  every 
thmg  that  is  in  the  earth  shall  die.'  How  mysterious  was 
the  forbearance  which  permitted  the  rebellion,  but  how  just 
was  the  judgment  which  punished  it ! 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— THURSDAY. 

V.    GEOLOGY. INDICATIONS    OF    THE    ACTION    OF    THE    DELUGE 

AT    THE    PERIOD    ASSIGNED    TO    IT    IN    SCRIPTURE. 

I  AM  now  to  consider  the  geological  indications  of  that  uni- 
versal deluge,  by  which  a  new  epoch  was  formed  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world,  and  by  which,  while  the  increasing  wick- 
edness of  the  human  race,  then  existing,  was  visited  by  the 
Divine  Governor  with  a  signal  display  of  his  displeasure,  a 
new  order  of  things  was  prepared. 


INDICATIONS   OF   THE   DELUGE.  375 

The  account  which  the  sacred  historian  gives  of  this  awful 
event,  is,  that '  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  broken 
up,  and  the  windows  of  heaven  were  opened,  and  the  rain 
was  upon  the  earth  forty  days  and  forty  nights  ;  and  the  wa- 
ters prevailed  exceedingly  upon  the  earth,  and  all  the  high 
hills  which  were  under  the  whole  heaven  were  covered  ;  and 
all  flesh  died  that  moved  upon  the  earth,  both  of  fowl,  and 
of  cattle,  and  of  beast,  and  of  every  creeping  thing  that  creep- 
eth  upon  the  earth,  and  every  man  ;  and  Noah  only  remained 
alive,  and  they  that  were  with  him  in  the  ark.  And  the 
waters  prevailed  upon  the  earth  an  hundred  and  fifty  days.' 
It  appears  further  from  the  Divine  record,  that,  in  the  sixth 
month  from  the  commencement  of  the  catastrophe,  the  waters 
began  to  subside  ;  and  that  at  the  end  of  a  year,  the  seas  were 
collected,  or  rapidly  collecting,  into  their  present  channels, 
and  the  earth  had  become  so  dry,  at  least  in  the  higher 
grounds,  as  to  be  again  fit  for  the  habitation  of  living  crea- 
tures. 

It  has  been  too  justly  alleged,  that  there  is  a  tendency  to 
scepticism  in  the  minds  of  scientific  men ;  that,  whether  it 
be  from  a  pride  of  understanding,  which  induces  them  to 
look  down  with  contempt  on  the  opinions  of  the  vulgar,  or 
from  a  consciousness  of  enlarged  ideas,  which  inclines  them 
to  distrust,  as  contracted  or  superstitious,  the  views  they  have 
acquired  in  the  nursery  and  in  their  elementary  schools  of 
instruction,  they  frequently  feel  a  pleasure  in  adopting  views 
and  maintaining  principles  at  variance  with  revealed  truth. 
At  all  events,  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  deluge,  as  well  as  of 
the  creation,  was  certainly  received  with  incredulity  by  those 
individuals  who,  about  the  beginning  of  the  present  century, 
took  the  lead  in  geological  investigations  ;  and  I  am  by  no 
means  sure,  that  this  reproach  does  not  still  attach  to  many 
who  affect  the  name  of  philosophical  inquirers.  Brydone 
endeavoured  to  throw  doubt  on  the  scriptural  account,  by  an 
allegation  (which  was  completely  overturned,  however,  by 
subsequent  discoveries),  regarding  the  time  requisite  for  con- 
vertmg  lava  into  vegetable  soil,  which  would  have  given  an 


376  GEOLOGY. 

antiquity  to  the  earth's  present  surface,  far  beyond  the  period 
of  the  flood  ;  and  Bailiy  used,  for  the  same  purpose,  and  with 
similar  success,  the  false  and  vain-glorious  chronology  of  the 
Hindoos. 

Happily,  however,  a  philosopher  of  a  different  stamp  has 
arisen,  who,  rigidly  questioning  Nature,  without  reference  to 
any  pre-conceived  opinion,  and  without  regard,  I  believe, 
even  to  the  authority  of  Scripture,  has  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion, that  the  appearances  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  indicate 
the  origin  of  its  present  state,  as  having  taken  its  date  at  a 
period  corresponding  with  wonderful  exactness  to  the  Mo- 
saic account.  The  words  in  which  M.  Cuvier  states  this  sa- 
tisfactory opinion,  are  sufficiently  pointed  and  precise.  '  I 
conclude,'  he  observes,  '  with  MM.  Deluc  and  Dolomieu, 
that,  if  there  be  any  fact  well  established  itj  geology,  it  is  this, 
that  the  surface  of  our  globe  has  suffered  a  great  and  sudden 
revolution,  the  period  of  which  cannot  be  dated  further  back 
than  5000  or  6000  years.  This  revolution  has,  on  the  one 
hand,  engulphed,  and  caused  to  disappear,  the  countries  for- 
merly inhabited  by  men,  and  the  animal  species  at  present 
best  known  ;  and,  on  the  other,  has  laid  bare  the  bottom  of 
the  last  ocean,  thus  converting  its  channel  into  the  now  habi- 
table earth.'* 

*  That  the  Supreme  Being,  not  only  in  the  ordinary  course  of  His  pro- 
vidence, but  even  when  he  interferes  to  execute  judgment,  generally 
makes  use  of  second  causes,  seems  to  be  admitted.  In  the  case  of  the 
deluge,  He  probably  did  not  deviate  beyond  what  is  stated  in  the  Sacred 
Volume,  from  this  usual  mode  of  operation,  and  human  curiosity  has  led 
to  the  inquiry  by  what  natural  powers  the  flood  was  effected.  That  there 
are  agents  in  nature  quite  sufficient,  in  point  of  force  and  extent,  to  pro- 
duce the  effects  described,  cannot  be  doubted.  The  most  obvious  of  these 
is  thus  stated  by  Dr.  Fitlon,  in  his  Geological  Sketch  of  the  Vicinity  of 
Hastings,  '  Tiie  evidence  in  proof  of  great  and  frequent  movements  of 
the  land  itself,  both  by  protrusion  and  subsidence,  and  of  the  connexion 
of  these  movements  with  the  operation  of  volcanoes,. is  so  various  and  so 
strong,  derived  from  so  many  quarters  on  the  surface  of  the  globe,  and 
every  day  so  much  extended  by  recent  inquiry,  as  almost  to  demonstrate 
that  these  have  been  the  causes  by  which  those  great  revolutions  were 
effected ;  and,  although  the  action  of  the  inward  forces  which  protrude 


cuvier's  calculation.  377 

A  rapid  statement  of  the  principles  on  which  Cuvier 
founds  his  reasoning,  may  suffice  to  show,  that  it  does  not 
rest  on  mere  theoretical  views,  but  is  based  on  incontroverti- 
ble facts. 

It  is  well  known,  that  great  and  constant  cnanges  are  go- 
ing on  in  the  surface  of  the  earth,  by  the  decomposing  power 
of  the  atmosphere,  by  the  effects  of  rain  and  of  frost,  by  the 
decay  of  vegetation,  by  the  fall  of  forests,  by  the  shifting  and 
accumulation  of  sand  drifted  with  the  wind,  and  by  the  con- 
tinual course  and  occasional  overflowing  of  rivers  and  moun- 
tain torrents.  The  effects  of  these  agents  are  indeed  slow, 
but  they  are  constantly  progressive.  They  prove,  as  I  have 
previously  stated,  that  the  present  condition  of  the  world  has 
not  been  eternal,  because,  in  the  revolution  of  countless  ages, 
the  earth  would,  by  such  means,  be  necessarily  reduced  to  a 
level ;  or  rather  the  whole  land,  being  carried  into  the  sea, 
would  be  submerged  and  overflowed  by  the  water.  Now, 
the  rate  at  which  these  changes  proceed,  may  be  subjected  to 
calculation  ;  and  this  is  what  Cuvier  has  actually  effected. 
He  examined  the  progress  of  accumulations  at  the  mouth  of 
rivers,  at  the  bottom  of  lakes,  and  in  valleys  ;  he  formed  an 
estimate  of  the  rate  at  which  rocks  and  mountains  crumble, 
and  sand,  drifted  from  the  sea,  where  it  is  formed,  spreads  into 
downs,  and  encroaches  on  the  vegetable  soil ;  and  he  con- 
sidered the  amount  of  detrition  which  takes  place  in  ravines, 
and  in  the  bottom  and  banks  of  rivers.  All  these  causes  of 
change  he  investigated  with  his  own  characteristic  acuteness ; 
and  he  and  his  associates,  in  carrying  back  their  calculations, 
found  that  they  all  united  in  pointing  to  a  period  when  they 
commenced  their  united  operations,  which,  as  he  states,  '  can- 
not be  dated  farther  back  than  5000  or  6000  years.'  In  other 
words,  it  appears  as  the  result  of  these  investigations,  that  the 
present  surface  of  the  earth  cannot  have  been  more  than  that 

the  land  has  varied  greatly  in  different  countries,  and  at  different  periods, 
they  are  now,  and  ever  have  been,  incessantly  at  work  in  operating  pres- 
ent change,  and  preparing  the  way  for  future  alteration  in  the  exterior 
oftheglobe.'— pp.  85,  86. 

32* 


378 

number  of  years  in  existence.  It  would  seem,  from  what 
this  philosopher  states,  when  he  gives  a  more  specific  account 
of  his  investigations,  that  in  naming  these  round  numbers,  he 
carries  his  concessions  to  the  most  extreme  verge  of  possibil- 
ity ;  and  that  his  own  settled  opinion  is,  that  the  Mosaic  ac- 
count, which  fixes  the  era  of  the  flood  at  the  distance  of  little 
more  than  4000  years  from  the  present  time,  is  borne  out 
with  remarkable  accuracy.  In  another  part,  afterwards  quo- 
led,  he  expressly  says: — '  Geology  apprises  us,  that,  of  the  va- 
rious revolutions  which  have  agitated  our  globe,  the  last  evi- 
dently corresponds  to  the  period  which  is  assigned  to  the 
deluge ;'  and  he  distinctly  states  4000  years  as  the  period 
indicated  by  the  alluvial  deposits. 

We  shall,  to-morrow,  give  an  example  or  two  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  Cuvier  conducted  his  inquiries  on  this  important 
and  most  interesting  subject. 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— FRIDAY. 

VI.     GEOLOGY. cuvier' S     CALCULATION     RESPECTING     THE 

DELUGE. 

It  is  so  desirable  to  remove  sceptical  doubt?,  as  to  the  actu- 
al occurrence  of  the  deluge,  that  we  cannot  leave  this  subject 
without  stating  a  few  farther  geological  facts,  which  show 
the  coincidence  of  actual  observation  with  the  declarations 
of  Scripture.  As  an  example  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
inquiries  respecting  the  date  at  which  the  present  surface  of 
the  earth  was  formed,  have  been  conducted  by  Cuvier,  and 
other  geologists  who  adopt  his  views,  it  may  be  interesting 
to  quote  the  following  passage  from  that  distinguished  phi- 
losopher's '  Theory  of  the  Earth  :' — '  M.  de  Ranp}^,  a  learned 
member  of  the  Institute,  inspector-general  of  bridges  and 
roads,  has  communicated  to  me  some  observations,  which  are 
of  the  greatest  importance,  as  explaining  those  changes  that 
have  taken  place  along  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic.     Having 


RESPECTING   THE   DELUGE.  379 

been  directed  by  government  to  investigate  the  remedies  that 
might  be  applied  to  the  devastations  occasioned  by  the  floods 
of  the  Po,  he  ascertained  that  this  river,  since  the  period  that 
it  was  shut  up  by  dykes,  has  so  greatly  raised  the  level  of  its 
bottom,  that  the  surface  of  its  waters  is  now  higher  than  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  in  Ferrara.  At  the  same  time,  its  allu- 
vial depositions  have  advanced  so  rapidly  into  the  sea,  that,  by 
comparing  old  charts  with  the  present  state,  the  shore  is  found 
to  have  gained  more  than  six  thousand  fathoms  since  1604, 
giving  an  average  of  a  hundred  and  sixty  or  a  hundred  and 
eighty,  and  in  some  places,  two  hundred  feet  yearly.  The 
Adige  and  the  Po  are,  at  the  present  day,  higher  than  the 
whole  tract  of  land  that  lies  between  them  ;  and  it  is  only  by 
opening  new  channels  for  them  in  the  low  grounds  which 
they  had  formerly  deposited,  that  the  disasters  which  they 
now  threaten  may  be  averted. 

'  The  same  causes  have  produced  the  same  effects  along 
the  branches  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Meuse  ;  and  thus  the  rich- 
est districts  of  Holland  have  continually  the  frightful  view  of 
their  rivers  held  up  by  embankments,  at  a  height  of  from 
twenty  to  thirty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  land.' 

We  have  here  a  curious  example  of  the  kind  and  amount 
of  detrition  by  which,  in  the  course  of  years,  the  higher 
grounds  are  worn  down  to  fill  up  vallies,  and  to  extend  into 
the  sea,  and  facts  of  a  similar  kind  are  every  where  familiar 
to  the  geological  inquirer. 

Mr.  Fairholme,  in  his  •  Geology  of  Scripture,'  gives  a  stri- 
king account  of  the  manner  in  which  a  fresh  water  lake 
has  been  encroached  on  by  the  land  in  the  course  of  a  century, 
which  illustrates  the  same  kind  of  natural  action  as  that  above 
mentioned,  on  which  Cuvier  founds  his  calculations,  although, 
in  the  instance  given,  that  action  was  assisted  by  the  inter- 
ference of  art.  Speaking  of  the  Kander,  a  mountain  torrent 
of  no  great  size  in  the  Canton  of  Berne,  he  says,  that  in  con- 
sequence of  the  mischief  done  by  the  overflowing  of  that 
river,  to  a  great  extent  of  valuable  meadow  land,  in  its  course 
to  join  the  Arr,  ten  miles  below  the   Thoun,  which  was  its 


380  GEOLOGY. CUVIER's    CALCULATION 

natural  course,  a  spirited  plan  was,  about  the  beginning  of 
last  century,  proposed  and  adopted  for  cutting  a  subterrane- 
ous passage  for  the  river  through  a  ridge,  at  a  place  where  it 
approached  the  lake.  The  descent  was  rapid,  and  the  tor- 
rent in  a  few  years  enlarged  its  course,  till  at  length  the 
whole  superstructure  gave  way  and  fell  in.  The  effects  of 
this  soon  became  apparent  in  the  lake.  An  immense  quan- 
tity of  gravel  and  stone  was  carried  in  by  the  current,  and 
lodged  in  its  bed ;  and  by  this  means  a  new  formation  took 
place  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  which,  in  1829,  being  little 
more  than  a  century,  had  '  produced  a  secondary  bed  of  mix- 
ed materials,  of  fully  three  hundred  acres,  and  at  least  one 
hundred  feet  in  depth.'* 

This  remarkable  formation  took  place  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances ;  but  all  rivers  are  actively  employed  in  effecting 
similar  changes  to  an  extent  of  which  those  who  have  not 
attended  to  the  subject  are  little  aware.  Major  Rennel  and 
Major  Colebrook  calculate  that  the  waters  of  the  Ganges 
contain,  in  the  season  of  flood,  one  part  in  four  of  mud,  on 
which  Mr.  Lyell  remarks : — '  We  are  somewhat  staggered 
by  the  results  to  which  we  must  arrive,  if  we  compare  the 
proportion  of  mud  as  given  by  Rennel,  with  his  computation 
of  the  quantity  of  water  discharged,  which  latter  is  probably 
very  correct.  If  it  be  true  that  the  Ganges,  in  the  flood  sea- 
son, contains  one  part  in  four  of  mud,  we  shall  then  be  obli- 
ged to  suppose  that  there  passes  down  every  four  days  a 
quantity  of  mud  equal  in  volume  to  the  water  which  is  dis- 
charged in  the  course  of  twenty-four  hours.  If  the  mud  be 
assumed  to  be  equal  to  one-half  the  specific  gravity  of  gra- 
nite (it  would,  however,  be  more),  the  weight  of  matter  daily 
carried  down  in  the  flood  season,  would  be  about  equal  to 
seventy-four  times  the  weight  of  the  great  pyramid  of  Egypt. 
Even  if  it  could  be  proved  that  the  turbid  waters  of  the  Gan- 
ges contain  one  part  in  a  hundred  of  mud,  which  is  possible, 
and  which  is  affirmed  to  be  the  case  in  regard  to  the  Rhine, 
we  should  be  brought  to  the  extraordinary  conclusion  ;  that 
*  P.  \2i. 


RESPECTING    THE    DELUGE.  381 

there  passes  down,  every  day,  into  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  a 
mass  more  than  equal  in  weight  and  bulk  to  the  great 
pyramid.' 

I  quote  these  examples  to  show  that  the  process  by  which 
the  earth  encroaches  on  the  sea,  and  becomes  reduced  in  the 
elevation  of  its  surface,  is  in  many  instances  astonishingly 
rapid  ;  but  it  is  not  in  these  extreme  cases  that  Cuvier  founds 
his  calculation,  but  on  an  average  of  ordinary  cases.  He 
takes  his  observations  partly  from  the  Deltas  of  the  Nile  and 
the  Rhine,  and  partly  from  the  depositions  along  the  shores 
of  the  sea  of  Asoph,  and  the  Black  Sea ;  and  he  also  consid- 
ers the  growth  of  peat  mosses,  the  extent  of  mountain  slips, 
and  the  progress  of  downs ;  and,  by  collating  the  results  of 
these  diversified  operations,  he  finds  them,  as  I  have  already 
intimated,  all  concurring  in  one  conclusion,  which  serves  by 
a  new  test  to  verify  the  Scriptural  account  of  the  era  of  the 
deluge,  and  its  universal  operation. 

But  it  may  be  more  satisfactory  to  give  the  words  of  Baron 
Cuvier  himself : — '  Thus,  while  the  traditions  of  all  nations 
have  preserved  the  remembrance  of  a  great  catastrophe,  the 
deluge^  which  changed  the  earth's  surface,  and  destroyed  near- 
ly the  whole  of  the  human  species,  geology  apprises  us,  that, 
of  the  various  revolutions  which  have  agitated  our  globe,  the 
last  evidently  corresponds  to  the  period  which  is  assigned  to 
the  deluge.  We  say,  that  by  means  of  geological  considera- 
tions alone,  it  is  possible  to  determine  the  date  of  this  great 
event  with  some  degree  of  precision. 

'  There  are  certain  formations,  which  must  have  commen- 
ced immediately  after  the  last  catastrophe,  and  which  from 
that  period,  have  been  continued  up  to  the  present  day,  with 
great  regularity.  Such  are  the  deposits  of  detritus  observed 
at  the  mouths  of  rivers,— the  masses  of  rubbish  which  exist 
at  the  foot  of  mountains,  and  are  formed  of  the  fragments  that 
fall  from  their  summits  and  sides.  These  deposits  receive  an 
yearly  increase,  which  it  is  possible  to  measure.  Nothing, 
therefore,  is  more  easy  than  to  calculate  the  time  which  it  has 
taken  them  to  acquire  their  present  dimensions.     This  calcu- 


382  GEOLOGY. EFFECTS    OF    THE    DELUGE    ON 

lation  has  been  made  with  reference  to  the  debris  of  moun- 
tains ;  and,  in  all  cases,  has  indicated  a  period  of  about  four 
thousand  years.  The  same  result  has  been  obtained  from  the 
other  alluvial  deposits.  In  short,  whatever  has  been  the 
natural  phenomenon  that  has  been  interrogated,  it  has  always 
been  found  to  give  evidence  in  accordance  with  that  of  tra- 
dition. The  traditions  themselves  exhibit  the  most  astonish^ 
ing  conformity.  The  Hebrew  text  of  Genesis  places  the 
deluge  in  the  year  2349  before  Christ.  The  Indians  make 
the  fourth  age  of  the  world,  that  in  which  we  now  live,  to 
commence  in  the  year  3012.  The  Chinese  place  it  about  the 
year  2384.  Confucius,  in  fact,  represents  the  first  king  Yeo, 
as  occupied  in  drawing  off  the  waters  of  the  ocean,  which  had 
risen  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  and  in  repairing  the  dam- 
age which  they  had  occasioned.' 

This  result,  so  pleasing  to  the  religious  mind,  has  been  at- 
tempted to  be  evaded  by  some  ingenious  writers,  who,  with 
considerable  plausibility,  have  supported  views  altogether  at 
variance  with  revelation,  endeavouring  to  account  for  all  the 
changes  which  have  taken  place  both  in  the  animate  and 
inanimate  creation,  by  a  regular  and  uninterrupted  succes- 
sion of  natural  causes,  continued  for  a  vast  but  undefined  pe- 
riod, amounting  perhaps  to  millions  of  years  ;  but  with  what- 
ever ability  these  views  have  been  supported,  the  straining  of 
facts  to  which  such  writers  are  obliged  to  resort  for  the  pur- 
pose of  supporting  a  very  untenable  theory,  is  too  apparent 
not  to  display  the  weakness  of  their  cause.  It  is  impossible, 
by  any  ingenuity,  to  mystify  the  fact  that  '  mountains  decay 
with  years,'  and  that  there  is  a  general  tendency  in  nature  to 
reduce  all  things  to  a  level ;  which,  in  a  period  infinitely 
short  of  eternity,  would  reduce  the  sea  to  a  muddy  puddle, 
and  the  land  to  a  swampy  and  pestilential  marsh. 


THE  PRESENT  SURFACE  OF  THE  EARTH.        383 


THIRTEENTH  WEEK— SATURDAY. 

VII.  GEOLOGY. EFFECTS  OF  THE  DELUGE  ON  THE  PRESENT 

SURFACE  OF  THE  EARTH. 

The  geological  marks  of  a  universal  deluge  are  very 
clearly  indicated,  not  merely  by  the  facts  we  have  been  al- 
ready considering,  but  also  by  appearances  of  a  different  kind. 
Marine  shells  are  every  where  found,  even  on  the  loftiest 
mountains.  These  give  evidence,  either  that  the  ocean  has 
shifted  its  bed,  or  that  it  has  swept  over  the  earth  as  Moses 
has  described  ;  or,  what  is  perhaps  most  probable  from  other 
indications,  that  both  of  these  causes  have  been  combined. 
But  there  are  proofs  of  the  flood  still  more  unequivocal. 
There  are  deposits  every  where,  which  geologists  have  justly 
considered  diluvial,  and  which,  from  their  position  on  ele- 
vated ground  or  gentle  slopes,  are  easily  distinguished  from 
the  accumulations  of  lakes  and  rivers.  '  In  the  whole  course 
of  my  geological  travels,'  says  Dr.  Buckland,  '  from  Corn- 
wall to  Caithness,  from  Calais  to  the  Carpathians,  in  Ireland 
or  in  Italy,  I  have  scarcely  ever  gone  a  mile,  without  finding 
a  perpetual  succession  of  deposits  of  gravel,  sand,  or  loam,  in 
situations  which  cannot  be  referred  to  the  action  of  modern 
torrents,  rivers,  or  lakes,  or  any  other  existing  causes. 
And  with  respect  to  the  still  more  striking  diluvial  phe- 
nomena of  drifted  masses  of  rocks,  the  greater  part  of  the 
northern  hemisphere,  from  Moscow  to  the  Mississipi,  is  des- 
cribed by  various  geological  travellers,  as  strewed,  on  its  hills 
as  well  as  valleys,  with  blocks  of  granite,  and  other  rocks  of 
enormous  magnitude,  which  have  been  drifted  (mostly  in  a 
direction  from  north  to  south),  a  distance  sometimes  of  many 
hundred  miles,  from  their  native  beds,  across  mountains  and 
valleys,  lakes  and  seas,  by  force  of  water,  which  must  have 
possessed  a  velocity  to  which  nothing  that  occurs  in  the 
actual  state  of  the  globe  affords  the  slightest  parallel.' 

The  state  of  the  earth's  surface  here  described,  must  be 


384  GEOLOGY. EFFECTS   OF   THE   DELUGE    ON 

familiar  to  every  one  who  has  any  taste  for  observation. 
What  we  call  soil  is  nothing  else  than  rocks  rubbed  down 
by  detrition,  or  decomposed  by  the  action  of  the  atmosphere, 
and  afterwards  mixed  with  the  decayed  vegetable  and  ani- 
mal substances  to  which  it  has  given  nourishment ;  and  it  is 
striking  to  observe  Avith  what  beneficence  the  action  of  natural 
causes  has  been  made  to  clothe  the  earth  with  a  covering  so 
admirably  adapted  for  the  purposes  of  organic  life.  The  agen- 
cy of  the  deluge  in  the  whole  operation  is  very  apparent.  First 
has  rushed  over  the  earth  a  wave  of  amazing  force,  bearing 
along  with  it  in  its  resistless  current  every  thing  which  ex- 
isted on  the  surface  of  the  globe  as  it  then  was, — destroying, 
submerging,  and  dispersing,  man  and  beast,  with  all  the 
labours  of  human  art;  tearing  up  and  floating  away,  or 
burying  deep,  tree  and  shrub,  plant  and  flower ;  throwing 
wide  over  all  climates  the  seeds  of  every  vegetable  produc- 
tion, to  form  the  germs  of  a  new  vegetation  in  an  altered 
world  ;  moving  from  their  primeval  foundations  the  peaks  of 
the  ancient  mountains,  and  hurrying  them  broken,  scattered, 
and  rounded  into  stones  and  boulders,  to  distant  regions,  and 
over  a  wide  extent ;  scooping  out  ravines,  and  raising  waving 
hills  of  gravel  and  clay  in  the  lower  grounds ;  and,  as  it 
swept  over  the  level  tracts,  depositing  part  of  the  more  heavy 
materials  with  which  it  was  loaded.  After  this  mighty  tor- 
rent, occasioned  by  the  sudden  disruption  of  the  solid  crust 
of  the  globe,  had  begun  to  subside,  the  turbid  waters,  in  their 
slower  motion,  had  proceeded  to  deposit  the  lighter  burden 
with  which  they  were  fraught.  The  mud  of  this  agitated 
and  shoreless  ocean,  mingled  with  rounded  stones  of  various 
size,  had  been  gradually  precipitated,  and  had  formed  a  sedi- 
ment of  various  depth,  which  was  to  serve  as  the  vegetable 
soil  of  the  future  liind  ;  and  this  awful  agent  having  now 
fulfilled  the  high  behest  of  the  Almighty,  had  gradually  re- 
tired to  those  regions  of  the  surface  which  were  nearest  the 
centre,  obeying  the  universal  laws  of  gravitation,  by  which 
liquids  find  their  own  level. 

That  the  actual  state  of  the  earth's  surface  corresponds 


THE  PRESENT  SURFACE  OF  THE  EARTH.        385 

very  remarkably  with  this  account  of  the  manner  in  which  a 
universal  flood  would  naturally  act,  every  one  must,  on  the 
slightest  survey,  be  sensible.  But  a  more  minute  and  care- 
ful examination  strikingly  confirms  this  general  view.  No 
one  can  look  with  a  judicious  eye  on  any  extensive  section 
of  the  upper  deposits  on  the  earth's  surface,  without  being 
sensible  of  this.  Sir  James  Hall  turned  the  attention  of 
geologists  to  the  curious  fact,  that  on  the  surface  of  sandstone^ 
among  the  soil  and  debris  which  cover  this  early  deposit, 
large  boulders,  sometimes  of  the  same  kind  of  rock,  and  fre- 
quently also  of  rock  of  a  kind  altogether  foreign  to  the 
locality,  are  very  often  to  be  found  ;  and  that,  where  this  is 
the  case,  the  upper  stratum  of  the  rock  is  marked  with  grooves 
or  scratches,  generally  lying  in  a  south-west  direction,  and 
evidently  attributable  to  the  impression  of  these  boulders, 
hurried  along  by  the  currents  during  the  action  of  the  flood. 
The  Craigleith  Gluarry,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Edinburgh, 
which  is  remarkable  as  containing  a  very  fine  example  of  a 
fossil  tree  in  the  very  heart  of  the  secondary  deposit,  is  a  well 
known  example  of  this.  The  intelligent  manager  of  this 
extensive  work,  has  traced  these  grooves  over  the  whole  sur- 
face of  the  quarry,  wherever  the  diluvial  soil  has  been  re- 
moved ;*  and  the  same  phenomenon  is  familiar  to  every 
person  who  is  conversant  with  similar  excavations.  In  the 
quarry  of  Corncocklemuir,  for  instance,  where  the  footsteps 
of  primeval  animals  have  been  discovered,  it  is  evident  that 
the  whole  upper  surface  of  the  strata  has  been  forcibly  torn 
off  before  the  diluvial  soil  was  deposited,  and  among  that 
soil  are  found  large  portions  of  the  sandstone  detached  from 
the  living  rock. 

Dr.  Buck] and  doubts  whether  these  proofs  of  a  flood  of 
immense  force  sweeping  over  the  surface  of  the  earth,  should 
be  referred  to  the  Mosaic  deluge,  or  to  that  which  submerged 
the  world  immediately  before  the  creation  of  man.  '  It  has 
been  justly  argued,'  says  he, '  against  the  attempt  to  identify 
these  two  great  historical  and  natural  phenomena,  that,  as 

♦  Geology  of  Scripture,  p.  345. 
33 


386  GEOLOGY. EFFECTS    OF    THE    DELUGE    ON 

the  rise  and  fall  of  the  waters  of  the  Mosaic  deluge  are 
described  to  have  been  gradual,  and  of  short  duration,  they 
would  have  produced  comparatively  little  change  on  the 
surface  of  the  country  they  overflowed.  The  large  prepon- 
derance of  extinct  species  among  the  animals  we  find  in 
caves,  and  in  superficial  deposits  of  diluvium,  and  the  non- 
discovery  of  human  bones  along  with  them,  afford  strong 
reason  for  referring  these  species  to  a  period  anterior  to  the 
creation  of  man.  This  important  point,  however,  cannot  be 
considered  as  completely  settled  till  more  detailed  investiga- 
tion of  the  newest  members  of  the  Pliocene,  and  of  the  dilu- 
vial and  alluvial  formations,  shall  have  taken  place.'  It  is 
well  to  speak  with  caution  when  a  sufficient  number  of 
facts  have  not  been  collected  ;  but,  for  my  own  part,  I  see 
little  force  in  the  objections  here  stated.  No  deluge,  which 
rose  in  a  few  weeks  over  the  tops  of  the  highest  mountains, 
and  enveloped  the  whole  habitable  globe,  could  possibly  be 
tranquil.  The  discovery  of  extinct  species  may  be  accounted 
for  by  the  extermination  of  such  animals  as  the  Creator  saw 
would  no  longer  be  suitable  to  the  new  condition  of  the  earth 
when  it  emerged  from  the  waters  ;  and  the  non-discovery  of 
human  bones  in  the  places  yet  examined,  by  no  means  pre- 
cludes the  probability  of  finding  them  in  the  extensive  re- 
gions of  the  East,  yet  unexplored,  where  it  is  universally 
believed  the  human  race  had  their  origin.  Geologists  jump 
too  quickly  to  conclusions.  How  small  a  tract  of  the  crust 
of  the  earth  has  yet  been  examined,  and  even  that  small  tract 
how  imperfectly  ! 

If  it  should  appear,  however,  that  the  organized  existences 
of  what  Mr.  Lyell  calls  the  Pliocene  period  of  the  tertiary 
formation,  are  sometimes,  or  even  frequently,  mingled  with 
those  which  were  destroyed  and  submerged  at  the  Deluge, 
this  is  just  what  might  be  expected,  on  the  supposition  that 
the  Pliocene  period  ended  in  a  similar  catastrophe.  At  the 
period  of  the  Mosaic  creation,  these  existences,  both  animal 
and  vegetable,  would,  of  course,  be  mingled  with  the  dilii' 
mvm  which  formed  the  surface  of  the  new  earth,  and  when 


THE  PRESENT  SURFACE  OF  THE  EARTH.       387 

the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  again  broken  up  at  the 
deluge,  that  diluvium  would  be  disturbed,  overturned,  and 
mixed,  so  as  to  enclose  the  remains  of  antediluvian  organiza- 
tion in  the  same  masses  with  those  of  the  latest  period  of  the 
immediately  preceding  formation.* 

*  Professor  Hitchcock,  in  his  Geology  of  Massachusetts  (p.  148),  well 
describes  what  appears  to  me  to  be  the  real  state  of  the  question  as  to  the 
deposits  connected  with  the  Mosaic  flood,  and  with  those  floods,  or  per- 
manent seas,  which  had  previously,  and  at  different  periods,  submerged 
various  portions  of  the  earth.  He  says,  'That  a  transient  deluge,  like  that 
described  in  the  Scriptures,  could  have  produced,  and  brought  into  its 
present  situation,  all  the  diluvium  which  is  now  spread  over  the  surface 
of  this  Continent  (America),  will  not,  it  seems  to  me,  be  admitted  for  a 
moment  by  any  impartial  observer.  It  has  obviously  been  the  result  of 
different  agencies,  and  of  different  epochs;  the  result  of  causes  sometimes 
operating  feebly  and  slowly,  and  at  other  times  violently  and  powerfully. 
But  the  conclusion  to  which  I  have  been  irresistibly  forced  by  the  exam- 
ination of  this  stratum  in  Massachusetts,  is,  that  all  the  diluvium,  which 
had  been  previously  accumulated  by  different  agencies,  has  been  modified 
by  a  powerful  deluge,  sweeping  from  the  north  and  north-west,  over 
every  part  of  the  state,  not  excepting  its  highest  mountains ;  and,  since 
that  deluge,  none  but  alluvial  agencies  have  been  operating  to  change 
the  surface.' 

What  is  true  of  Massachusetts,  there  is  reason  to  believe,  is  true  also  of 
every  part  of  the  globe,  where  traces  of  the  flood  of  Noah  more  or  less 
distinct  may  be  discovered.  I  am  aware  that  this  has  been  denied ;  and 
pains  have  been  taken  to  prove  that  the  deluge  of  Scripture  was  not  uni- 
versal, but,  on  the  contrary,  confined  to  that  portion  of  the  earth  where 
Man  and  other  living  creatures  of  the  Mosaic  creation  were  congregated; 
but  this  opinion,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  is  certainly  not  founded  on  evidence 
capable  of  convincing  an  impartial  inquirer;  while  facts  of  an  opposite 
tendency,  some  of  which  have  been  mentioned  in  the  text,  are  almost 
universally  palpable  wherever  sufficiently  minute  and  intelligent  observa- 
tion has  taken  place.  Should  the  progress  of  the  science,  however,  es- 
tablish that  the  Mosaic  flood  was  not  universal,  which  is  quite  possible, 
this  would  not  affect  the  question  as  to  the  inspiration  of  the  sacred  vol- 
ume. But  this  is  an  argument  into  which  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  at 
present  to  enter.  If  any  one  wishes  to  satisfy  himself  on  the  point,  he 
may  consult  the  recent  publication  of  Dr.  Pye  Smith,  'On  the  Relation 
between  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  some  parts  of  Geological  Science,'  who 
plausibly  and  forcibly  maintains,  along  with  various  late  writers  of  iOte» 
the  doctrine  of  9.  partial  flood.— iVb^e  to  the  edition  ^1840. 


388       GEOLOGY. EFFECTS  OF  THE  DELUGE  ON 

In  considering  the  whole  subject  of  the  deluge,  including 
not  only  its  physical  appearances,  unfolded  by  geological 
research,  but  its  moral  cause,  as  declared  by  the  inspired  vol- 
ume, we  cannot  too  much  admire  the  Divine  wisdom  and 
goodness  which  has  caused  such  a  tremendous  judgment  to 
end  in  an  arrangement  so  beneficial.  The  beautiful  scenery 
of  the  earth,  with  its  vallej^s  and  hills,  covered  with  a  green 
carpet  of  grass,  and  adorned  with  flowers,  or  waving  with 
lofty  forests,  or  gracefully  interspersed  with  the  smooth  ex- 
panse of  lakes,  reflecting  surrounding  nature  on  their  peace- 
ful bosom,  or  with  streams  rolling  their  ever-flowing  tide  to 
the  ocean ;  while  the  distant  horizon  melts  away  into  blue 
mountains,  whose  tops  reach  the  clouds, — all  this  is  the  result 
of  that  dreadful  convulsion  which  offended  justice  inflicted  as 
a  deserved  punishment  on  accumulated  and  increasing  guilt ; 
but  which  a  paternal  hand  controlled,  and  an  all-wise  Provi- 
dence converted,  to  purposes  of  mercy  and  love. 

There  is  something  unspeakably  gracious  in  the  promise 
made  to  Noah,  when  he  and  his  family  issued  from  the  ark, 
and  set  their  foot  for  the  first  time  on  a  submerged,  but  reno- 
vated world.  '  I  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud,  and  it  shall  be 
for  a  token  of  a  covenant  between  Me  and  the  earth.  And  it 
shall  come  to  pass,  when  I  bring  a  cloud  over  the  earth,  that 
the  bow  shall  be  seen  in  the  cloud ;  and  I  will  remember  my 
covenant  which  is  between  Me  and  you,  and  every  living 
creature  of  all  flesh  ;  and  the  waters  shall  no  more  become  a 
flood  to  destroy  all  flesh.' — 'While  the  earth  remaineth, seed- 
time and  harvest,  and  cold  and  heat,  and  summer  and  winter, 
and  day  and  night  shall  not  cease.' 

With  what  a  fine  vein  of  poetic  feeling  has  our  most  cele- 
brated living  poet  alluded  to  this  sublime  and  paternal  decla- 
ration, in  his  address  to  the  Rainbow : — 

'  When  o'er  the  green  undeluged  earth, 
Heaven's  covenant  thou  didst  shine, 
How  came  the  world's  grey  fathers  forth 
To  watch  thy  sacred  sign ! 


THE   PRESEiNT    SURFACE    OF   THE   EARTH  389 

'  And,  while  its  yellow  lustre  smiled 
O'er  mountains  yet  untrod 
Each  mother  held  aloft  her  child, 
To  bless  the  bow  of  God. 


How  glorious  is  thy  girdle  cast 
O'er  mountain,  tower,  and  town, 

Or  mirror'd  in  the  ocean  vast, 
A  thousand  fathoms  down. 

'  As  fresh,  in  yon  horizon  dark, 
As  young  thy  beauties  seem, 
As  when  the  eagle  from  the  ark 
First  sported  in  thy  beam. 

'  For,  faithful  to  its  sacred  page. 
Heaven  still  rebuilds  thy  span, 
Nor  lets  the  type  grow  pale  with  age, 
That  first  spoke  peace  to  man ! 


I' 


Campbell. 


FOURTEENTH  WEEK— SUNDAY. 

THE    DELUGE    A    DIVINE    JUDGMENT. 

The  account  which  the  Bible  gives  us  of  the  history  of  the 
antediluvian  world,  and  of  the  causes  which  led  to  that  awful 
interference  of  the  great  Creator,  which  brought  it  to  a  sud- 
den and  violent  end,  may  be  stated  in  few  words.  After 
man  had  proved  himself  unworthy  of  the  world  of  happiness 
in  which  he  was  placed,  it  pleased  the  Eternal  to  continue 
his  existence,  under  a  new  condition,  both  of  his  OAvn  mental 
and  physical  powers,  and  of  the  constitution  of  external  na- 
ture.    What  that  condition  was,  we  have  already  partly  seen. 

It  was  a  state  of  things  in  which  sin,  misery,  and  death, 
were  to  prevail,  as  a  preparation  for  another  and  more  glori- 
ous form  of  existence,  to  be  obtained  by  believers  through  the 
mediation  of  the  Redeemer  ;  and  it  was  also  part  of  this  new- 
condition,  that  men  should  still  be  so  far  morally  free,  as  to 
33* 


390  THE    DELUGE    A    DIVINE   JUDGMENT. 

have  it  in  their  power  to  reject  the  offered  salvation,  and  re- 
main under  the  dominion  of  the  prince  of  darkness.  Thus 
mankind  came  to  be  divided  into  two  great  parties,  as  seen 
by  the  Omniscient  eye, — those  who,  accepting  of  the  promised 
Saviour,  were  maturing  for  the  mansions  of  heaven  ;  and 
those  who,  preferring  the  things  of  time  to  the  hopes  of  eter- 
nity, were  doomed  to  everlasting  destruction.  The  external 
condition  of  men  was,  in  the  antediluvian  world,  early  marked 
with  a  broad  line  of  distinction,  corresponding  in  some  de- 
gree with  their  future  destiny.  There  were  two  distinct 
races  of  the  human  family, — the  one,  descended  from  the 
first  murderer,  acute,  ingenious,  and  worldly,  gave  them- 
selves entirely  to  the  cultivation  of  those  pursuits  and  pleas- 
ures, which  begin  and  end  on  this  side  the  grave ;  the 
other,  taking  their  origin  from  a  more  high-minded  parent, 
and,  like  him,  full  of  views  and  expectations  which  looked 
beyond  the  present  earthly  scene,  were  animated  by  that 
Hope,  of  which  it  has  been  beautifully  said,  that  she  'lights 
her  torch  at  Nature's  funeral  pile ;'  and  made  it  the  noblest 
aim  of  their  lives,  to  walk  worthy  of  their  immortal  destiny, 
and  to  prepare  for  the  exalted  employments  and  enlarged 
happiness  of  celestial  natures. 

In  the  slight  glimpse  afforded  us  of  these  two  races,  we 
find  a  striking  example  of  a  peculiarity  in  the  hunjan  charac- 
ter, which  our  Saviour  has  noticed,  and  which  has  charac- 
terized man  in  every  age, — that  the  children  of  this  world 
are  wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children  of  light. 
Among  the  descendants  of  Cain,  who  are  designated  by 
Moses  as  the  '  children  of  men,'  we  see  much  worldly  wis- 
dom. We  find  their  peculiar  character  indicated  in  these 
short  incidental  notices, — they  built  cities ;  they  possessed 
flocks  and  herds ;  they  invented  musical  instruments  ;  they 
dug  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  became  artificers  in 
brass  and  iron  : — in  short,  they  founded  the  arts  of  civilized 
life,  and  made  large  advances  in  its  comforts  and  luxuries. 
Among  the  pious  race  of  Seth,  who  were  distinguished  from 
the  irreligious  family  by  the  honourable  title  of  '  Sons  of 


THE    DELUGE   A   DIVINE   JUDGMENT.  391 

God,'  we  hear  little  of  worldly  accomplishments,  though  they 
doubtless  studied  the  works  of  creation,  that  in  them  they 
might  discern  and  adore  the  Creator's  perfections,  and  were 
not  neglectful  of  whatever  might  contribute  to  the  comfort  of 
social  and  domestic  life,  or  enlarge  the  understanding,  or 
improve  the  heart ;  but,  what  is  of  much  greater  importance, 
and  indicates  a  far  nobler  character,  in  the  descendants  of 
that  family,  we  find  Enoch,  Avho  Avalked  with  God,  and  was 
not,  for  God  took  him,  and  Noah,  who  was  just  and  perfect 
in  his  generations. 

But  the  contagion  of  iniquity  is  fearful.     In  all  ages,  there 
is  a  predisposition  towards  it  in  the  heart  of  every  man,  and 
probably  its  influence  was  greatly  aggravated  in  the  primeval 
epoch,  by  a  life  extending  to  many  centuries,  and  by  the 
peculiar  vigour  of  the  bodily  powers.     Whatever  force  there 
may  be  in  this  latter  observation,  it  is  certain,  that  as  sojn  as 
the  pious  race,  merging  their  horror  of  irreligion  in  their 
admiration  of  human  talent,  began  to  cultivate  a  familiar 
intercourse  with  the  infidel   race,  their  characters  from  that 
instant  began  to  decline  ;  and,  frequent  intermarriages  having 
taken  place  among  them,  which  hastened  the  disease,  corrup- 
tion became  universal  and  inveterate,  and  the  earth  was  filled 
with  violence.     At  length  the  measure  of  their  iniquity  be- 
came full.     The  world,  as  it  then  was,  had  fulfilled  its  pur- 
pose, and  the  family  of  Adam  had  proved  themselves  incapa- 
ble, under  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  then  placed, 
of  honourably  fulfilling  the  relations  of  life,  or  of  preparing 
for  the  enjoyments  of  a  better  world.     A  new  constitution  of 
things  was  to  succeed,  in  which  human  life  was  to  be  cur- 
tailed, the  world   was  to  be  rendered  less  exuberant  in  its 
vegetable  productions,  some  of  the  largest  animals,  probably, 
were  to  be  exterminated,  and  other  corresponding  changes 
were  to  be  made  in  further  development  of  the  Divine  de- 
crees.    A  new  step,  in  short,  was  to  be  taken  towards  the 
accomplishment  of  the  primeval  promise,  that '  the  seed  of 
the  woman  should  bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent' 

The  antediluvian  world  was  therefore  to  be  destroyed,  and 


392  THE    DELUGE    A    DIVINE   JUDGMENT. 

means  having  been  taken  for  the  preservation  of  all  living 
species  intended  to  people  the  new  earth,  from  man  to  tho 
minutest  insect, '  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  broken 
up,'  and  the  windows  of  heaven  were  opened  ; — by  some 
amazing  convulsion,  in  which  the  agency  of  natural  causes 
was  probably  employed,  an  irresistible  and  overwhelming 
flood  poured  over  the  face  of  the  whole  earth,  and,  amidst  the 
jarring  of  commingled  elements,  the  work  of  destruction  was 
accomplished.  This  awful  event  is  thus  graphically  described 
by  Mr.  Sharon  Turner,  in  the  concluding  sentence  of  his  able 
work  on  the  History  of  the  Creation,  &c — '  We  can  but 
faintly  conceive  the  appalling  scene.  Mankind  were  sur- 
prised, in  the  midst  of  their  usual  festivities  and  employ- 
ments, by  the  sudden  alarm  of  portentous  danger,  rapidly 
rushing  on  them  from  the  blackening  and  howling  sky. 
The  sun  was  seen  no  more, — midnight  darkness  usurped  the 
day, — lightnings  dreadfully  illuminated, — thunder  rolled  with 
unceasing  fury, — all  that  was  natural  ceased ;  and,  in  its 
stead,  whirlwind  and  desolation, — earth  rending, — cities  fall- 
ing,— the  roar  of  tumultuous  waters, — shrieks  and  groans 
of  human  despair, — overwhelming  ruin, — universal  silence, 
— and  the  awful  quiet  of  executed  and  subsiding  retribution.' 
In  the  history  of  these  first  ages,  a  most  instructive  lesson 
is  taught  us  with  regard  to  the  nature  and  consequences  of 
mere  human  talent,  destitute  of  divine  illumination.  Wedded 
to  earth,  the  infidel  branch  of  the  human  family  sought  an 
earthly  reward,  and  obtained  it.  They  '  found  out  many 
inventions  ;'  they  increased  in  wealth,  and  surrounded  them- 
selves with  conveniences  and  luxuries.  In  the  eager  course 
of  selfishness,  the  boundaries  of  knowledge  were  extended, — 
desire  was  enlarged, — the  faculties  sharpened,  and  the  taste 
refined.  But  in  this  worldly  progress  what  became  of 
morality,  and  where  was  the  place  of  religion?  Alas!  they 
had  fled.  The  pursuits  of  the  world  are  essentially  grovel- 
ling ; — they  debase,  harden,  and  contract  the  heart.  Sensu- 
ahty  brutifies  it ;  passion  inflames  it ;  evil  communications 
corrupt  it.     Avarice  is  grasping,  pride  is  arrogant, — ambition 


THE   DELUGE    A   DIVINE   JUDGMENT.  393 

bloody,  Even  science  itself,  when  pursued  in  a  worldly 
spirit,  is  full  of  snares ;  in  its  self-sufficiency  it  usurps  the 
sceptre  of  heaven,  and  banishes  God  from  the  throne  of  the 
universe. 

The  awful  catastrophe  of  the  Deluge  presents  the  Almighty 
before  our  minds  in  the  tremendous  light  of  an  avenging  and 
unrelenting  judge  ;  and,  in  contemplating  it,  we  seem  to  lose 
sight  of  the  gracious  attributes  by  which  the  Universal  Parent 
is  endeared  to  the  hearts  of  His  children.     But,  when  we 
divest  the  event  of   those  adventitious  qualities   which  the 
excited  imagination  throws  around  it,  and  view  it  in  the  pure 
light  of  truth,  we  perceive  that,  after  all,  except  as  regards 
time  and   manner,  there  was  nothing  more  dreadful  than 
what  happens  in  the  ordinary  course  of  Providence.     Every 
thing  that  lives  is  destined  by  the  condition  of  its  nature  to 
die, — some  in  infancy, — some  in   the  opening   blossom  of 
youth, — some  in  the  full  vigour  of  matured  faculties, — and 
some  in  hoary  age.     And  what  greater  calamity  than  this 
invaded   the   animal  creation  when   the  flood   swept  them 
away  ?     They  died,  indeed,  together ^  and  the  mode  of  their 
dissolution  was  violent  and  unusual.     But  was  there  not, 
even  in    these  very  circumstances,  much   to    alleviate  the 
calamity?      What   varieties  of    protracted   suffering    were 
avoided !     How  many  pangs  of  heart-rending  sympathy  were 
spared !      There   were   no   torturing   diseases, — no   restless 
nights, — no   tedious  watchings, — no   orphan    children, — no 
sorrowing  parents, — no  widowed  wives, — no  bereaved  hus- 
bands.    To  perish  by  flood !     It  is  one  of  the  easiest  of 
deaths.    To  die  together  !     It  is  a  consummation  which  affec- 
tion desires. 

But  beyond  death !  This  is  the  awful  thought — Mysteri- 
ous and  appalling  dispensation !  Scene  of  horror  and  des- 
pair !  Yet,  in  this  respect,  the  deluge  was  not  different  in  its 
consequences  from  a  common  deathbed.  The  crisis  was 
sudden,  indeed,  but  if  the  world  was  taken  by  surprise,  it 
was  not  for  want  of  ample  warning.  During  the  eventful 
period  in  which  the  ark  was  building, — a  period  of  a  hun 


394  THE   DELUGE    OF   DIVINE   JUDGMENT. 

dred  and  twenty  years, — Noah  was  'a  preacher  of  righteous- 
ness,' and  the  '  long  suffering  of  God  Avaited.'*  This  inti- 
mates to  us  the  opportunity  which  even  to  the  very  last  was 
afforded  for  penitence,  and  shows  to  what  extent  the  conscience 
was  seared,  and  how  irretrievable  was  the  moral  and  religious 
character  of  the  world.  And  what  a  warning  does  it  afford 
to  us  !  The  world  will  never  indeed  be  again  overwhelmed 
by  a  flood  ; — but  every  individual  of  the  human  family, 
generation  after  generation,  will  go  down  to  the  dust  from 
which  he  was  taken,  and  his  soul  will  be  required  of  him  for 
final  judgment.  We  know  not  when  this  event  will  occur 
to  any  individual ;  but  we  are  daily  warned  that  the  time  is 
at  hand  ;  and  ought  we  not  to  have  '  our  loins  girded  about, 
and  our  lamps  burning  V 

Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  the  period  is  approaching 
when  the  world  shall  be  destroyed,  not  indeed  by  water,  but 
by  fire  ;  and  that  the  latter  catastrophe  Avill  come  as  suddenly 
and  as  little  expected  as  the  former.  '  As  it  was  in  the  days 
of  Noe,  so  shall  it  also  be  in  the  days  of  the  Son  of  Man. 
They  did  eat,  they  drank,  they  married  wives,  they  were 
given  in  marriage,  until  the  day  that  Noe  entered  into  the 
ark,  and  the  flood  came  and  destroyed  them  all.'*  How 
happy  will  those  be  who  shall  have  taken  shelter  from  such 
calamities  under  the  everlasting  wings,  and  to  whom,  in 
whatever  form  the  King  of  terrors  advances,  he  shall  prove  a 
messenger  of  immortal  glory ! 

*  1  Peter  iii.  20,  and  2  Peter  ii.  5.  t  Luke  xvii.  26,  27. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


♦♦*  T7t(5  Utters,  Sp,  Su,  A,  and  W,  refer  to  the  Volumes  on 
Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  and  Winter. 


Abbott  on  the  pleasure  arising  from 
a  wintry  scene,  W.  318. 

Adaptations  of  the  faculties  of  liv- 
ing beings  to  the  properties  of 
light  and  air,  Su,  42— 47. 

Adjective  colours,  A.  251. 

Affection,  parental,  Sp.  121.  Of  the 
wren,  124.  Maternal,  of  the  hen, 
123.  Of  the  spider,  125.  Do- 
mestic, 196. 

Affliction,  spiritual  training  by,  Sp. 
252. 

Africa,  swallows  supposed  to  migrate 
to,  W.  214. 

Agents    in   developing   plants,  Sp. 

Agriculture,  ancient  Greek,  A.  162 
— 165.  Ancient  Roman,  166 — 
168.  Progress  of  British,  168— 
172.  Modern  Continental,  172— 
178.  French  and  British  com- 
pared, 172. 

Agricultural  labours,  Sp.  234.  Al- 
cantara, Roman  bridge  at,  A.  317. 

Allie,  bridge  over  the,  A.  318. 

Alligator,  the,  Su.  247—249. 

Alpine  hare,  its  change  of  colour  in 
winter,  W.  275. 

Alternation  of  day  and  night,  W.  81 
—84. 

American  blue-bird,  migrates  to  the 
Bermudas,  W.  214. 

American  snow-bird  migrates  to  the 
north,  W.  217. 

Amusements  on  the  ice,  W.  316. 

Analogy  of  nature,  Sp.  70. 

Animal  structure,  Sp.  92 — 103;  se- 
cretion, 96 ;  digestion,  97 ;  circu- 


lation of  blood,  97;  Creation,  bal- 
ance preserved  in,  W.  72. 

Animals,  plants  and,  compared,  W. 
149—153.  Instincts  of,  167.  Rea- 
son in  the  lower,  175 — 179.  Pro- 
vision for,  in  winter,  180.  Storing 
instincts  of,  277 — 281.  Torpidity 
of,  282—286.  Proof  of  Creative 
Wisdom  from  frame  of,  Sp.  106, 
Reproduction  among  lower  orders 
of,  108.  Reproduction  among 
higher  orders  of,  1 13.  Their  in- 
stincts connected  with  reproduc- 
tion, 116.  Vertebrated,  Su.  202, 
Predaceous,  266.  Ruminating, 
318—321.  Thick-skinned,  321— 
332.  Reflections  on,  332.  Phy- 
siological character  of  vertebrated, 
218. 

Animalcules,  infusory,  W.  149 — 
153  ;  in  paste,  200,  Innumera- 
ble swarms  of,  206. 

Ant,  the,  Su.  195.  Legionary,  195, 
Sanguine,  197.  Lion,  200,  In- 
genuity of,  Sp.  146.  Anecdotes 
of,  W.  177,  Their  larvae  covered 
with  hair,  182.  Storing  instinct 
of  some  species,  183. 

Antediluvian  world,  state  of,  W.  370 
—377. 

Apple,  the,  Su.  95.  A.  12],  Lives 
after  being,  gathered,  122, 

Aqueducts,  A.  322. 

Arago,  M.,  on  meteoric  showers,  W. 
47.  On  the  distance  of  binary 
stars,  note,  140. 

Arch,  history  of  the,  A.  308, 

Architect,  the  invisible,  Su,  160, 

Architecture,  its  principle,  A,  253, 


396 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


Its  orio^inal  state,  257.     Modifica- 
tions by  habit  and  religion,  265. 

Argonsiut,  the,  Su.  153. 

Argument,  general  summary  of  the, 
A.  364—387. 

Artesian  wells,  Sp.  35. 

Arts,  the  origin  of,  A.  78 — 82.  Con- 
trast between  savage  and  civilized 
life  in  relation  to,  374. 

Arum  cordifolium,  heat  of  its  spa- 
dices  in  unfolding,  W.  159. 

Ash  tree,  its  uses,  A.  75. 

Ass,  the,  Su.  327. 

Athenians,  their  dress,  A.  193. 

Atmosphere,  mechanism  of,  Sp.  28. 
Expansive  power  of,  W.  30.  Cir- 
culation of,  31.  Changes  in,  33 
Complicated  nature  of,  34. 

Atmospheric  phenomena,  Su.  26 — 
35. 

Attainments,  emptiness  of  human, 
A.  185—189. 

Audubon,  his  account  of  the  miora- 
tion  of  pigeons,  VV.  215. 

Aurora  Borealis,  W.  44.  Its  history, 
45.     Hissing  noise  of,  46. 

Autumn,  its  general  character,  A.  9 
—13.  In  the  city,  13— 18.  Fam- 
ine in,  18—23.  Vegetation  in, 
23—27.  State  of  birds  in,  57— 
62.     Woods  in,  63. 

Autumnal  Sabbath  evening,  A.  330. 
Appearances,  reflections  on,  353. 
Landscape,  357. 

Avery's  steam  engine,  A.  note,  334. 
Avignon,  bridge  at,  A.  3 1 8. 
Axis,  inclination  of  the  earth's,  W. 
25. 

B 

Babel,  tower  of.  A.  287. 
Babylon,  A.  290. 

Babylonians,  their  early  dress,  A.192. 
Balance    preserved  in    animal   and 

vegetable  creation,  W.  71—87. 
Bamboo,  its  uses,  A.  75. 
Banana,  the,   Su.  105.     Humboldt's 

account   of  its   prolific   qualities, 

A.m. 

Banks,  Sir  Joseph,  note  by  him  on 
a  skein  of  cotton,  A.  212. 

Barclay,  Mr.,  his  account  of  land- 
crabs,  W.  2f;0— 262. 

Barley,  Sp.  310.     Its  uses,  312. 

Bat,  the,  Su.  290  Structure  of, 
291.     The  Vampire,  294. 


Beans,  Sp.  323. 

Bee,  the  parental  care  of,  Sp.  137. 
Ingenuity  of,  137.      Enemies  of, 
143.     The  Queen.  Su.  222.     Hy- 
bernation of,  W.  186—192.  Nurse- 
bees  and  wax-workers,  187.     Mr. 
Nutt's    mode    of    treating,    192. 
Killing  of  the  drones,  191. 
Beech  tree,  its  uses,  A.  76. 
Beet,  the,  Su.  75. 
Beetle,  hybernation  of  the,  W.  200. 

Burying,  Sp.  144. 
Bell,  Sir  Charles,  on  pain,  W.  20. 
Bell  Rock  lighthouse,  A.  note,  340. 
Berries  as  articles  of  food,  A.  120. 
Binary  stars,  W.  136—141. 
Birds,  migration  of,    W.  205—218. 
Nature  of  migratory  impulse,  208. 
Countries  to  which  they  migrate, 
210.     Their   migration   compared 
with  the  hope  of  immortality,  237. 
Their  bills,  Su.  232.     Power  of 
flying,    234.      Of    vision,     238. 
Voice,      242.       Language,     243. 
Food,    246.     Gregarious    habits, 
254.     Of  prey,  267.     Nest-build- 
ing,   Sp.    184 — 196.      Humming, 
194.     Hatching  of,  206.     Repro- 
duction of,   157 — 210.      Eggs  of, 
157.       Prospective     contrivances 
in,  163.     Their  relation  to  exter- 
nal   nature.    171.      Reproductive 
in.stincts  of,  176.     Pairing  of,  177. 
Bison,  migration  of  the,  W,  220. 
Black   beetle,  extraordinary  vitality 

of,  W.  201. 
Black  cap,  Sp.  180. 
Blacklock,  Dr.,  instance  of  somnam- 
bulism, W.  85. 
Bleaching,  the  art  of,  A.  236. 
Blood,  circulation  of  the,  Sp.  98. 
Boccari's  account  of  an  ignis  fatuus, 

W.  34. 
Bodies,  colour  of,  Sp.  18.     Ficrure 
of,  21.      Size  of,  23.     Of  bfrds, 
their  relation  to  external  nature, 
171. 
Bonnycastle's  account  of  phospho- 
rescence, W.  42. 
Boy,  wild,  found  in  Hansay  morass, 

A.  note,  1 14. 
Brassica,  or  cabbage,  Su.  64. 
Bread  of  life,  A.  127—132. 
Breasts  of  animals,  A.  135. 
Bridge,  brothers  of  the,  A.  318. 
Bridges,  A.  317—322. 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


397 


Britain,  its  facilities  for  the  manu- 
facture of  cotton,  A.  219. 

isntish  architecture,  A.  313. 

Brood,  rearing  of  the,  Sp.  208.      ^ 

Brougham,  Lord,  his  remarks  on  the 
rapidity  of  thought  in  sleep,  W. 

Buckland,  Dr.,  on  Mosaic  account 
of  creation,  W.  note,  335.  On 
successive  periods  of  animal  ex- 
istences, 355 — 357.  On  animal 
remains,  rwte,  368.  On  creation 
of  heavenly  bodies,  note,  369. 
Doubts  as  to  appearances  con- 
nected with  the  deluge,  378. 

Buds  of  plants,  their  pow^er  of  re- 
sisting frost,  W.  158. 

Burns,  Robert,  his  remarks  on  the 
attachment  of  the  dog  to  man,  W. 
339. 

Burying-beetle,  the,  Sp.  144. 

Butter,  A.  135. 

Butterfly,  large  white,  W.  182. 
Marsh  fritillary,  183. 


Cabbaore,  or  brassica,  Su.  64.  Cow, 
68. 

Calico  printing,  A.  251. 

Camel,  the,  its  adaptation  to  a  pecu- 
liar locality,  W.  69. 

Canals,  A.  322. 

Capillary  attraction,  Sp.  15. 

Carrier  pigeon,  vision  of,  Su.  240. 
Velocity  of,  240. 

Carrot,  the,  Su.  74. 

Castor,  anecdote  of  a  dog  so  named, 
W.  350. 

Catesby's  observations  on  the  recent 
migrations  of  wheat-bird  and  rice- 
bird,  VV.  216. 

Cellular  texture,  Sp.  92. 

Chalmers,  Rev.  Dr.,  on  telescope 
and  microscope,  W.  155 — 157. 

Cheerfulness,  its  effect  in  mitigating 
rigours  of  winter,  W,  238 — 232. 

Cheese,  A.  136. 

Chemistry,  its  application  to  agricul- 
ture, A.  105. 

Cherries,  A.  122.     Su.  99. 

Children  of  the  world  wiser  than 
those  of  the  light,  A.  269. 

Chinese,  the  extent  of  their  cultiva- 
tion of  the  soil,   A.   85.     Early 
manufacturers  of  silk,  197.  Weav- 
ers, 203.     Architecture,  266 
VOL.  IV. 


Chlorine  applied  to  bleaching,  A. 
328. 

Christ,  ascension  of,  Su.  250.  The 
Judge  of  the  world,  278.  The 
gnod  Shepherd,  308. 

Christian  love,  Sp.  226. 

Christians,  members  one  of  another, 
A.  95. 

Christmas  day,  W^.  228—232. 

ChrysaUs  of  the  silk  worm,  Su.  174. 

Circulation  in  the  atmosphere,  W. 
27.     In  the  ocean,  29. 

Civilized  man  compared  with  the 
savage  as  to  food,  A.  155 — 158. 

Climate,  its  influence  on  distribution 
of  plants,  Sp.  16 — 17.  Physiolo- 
gical effects  on  man,  Su.  357. 
Moral  effects  on  man,  360, 

Climates,  variety  of,  W.  52.  Uses 
of,  53.  Commercial  spirit  pro- 
duced by,  55.  Agricultural  spirit 
promoted  by,  57.  Adaptation  of 
organized  existences  to,  60,  64, 
69. 

Clothing,  its  principle,  A.  178—181. 
Its  primitive  state,  181 — 185.  Its 
ancient  history,  189 — 194.  Its 
raw  materials,  194 — 198.  Its 
manufactured  materials,  198 — 228. 
Of  Esquimaux,  W.  305.  Of  Cap- 
tain Middleton  and  his  compan- 
ions, 331. 

Clouds,  Su.  31 — 35,  Formation  of, 
32. 

Coal,  its  formation,  W.  355. 

Cochineal,  insects,  mode  of  protect- 
ing their  eggs,  W.  182. 

Cock,  the  domestic,  Su.  259.  Anec- 
dote of,  note,  Sp.  126. 

Cocoa-nut  tree,  Sp.  282.  Dissemi- 
nation of,  283.  Properties  of, 
284.     Its  uses,  A.  74. 

Cocoons  of  insects,  Su.  165 — 169. 

Coffee,  A.  144,  145. 

Colour  of  bodies,  Sp.  18. 

Colours,  adjective  and  substantive, 
A.  251. 

Comfort,  provision  for,  in  Winter, 
W.  286—291. 

Comforts  and  conveniences,  con- 
trast between  savage  and  civilized 
life  in  relation  to  domestic,  A. 
377. 

Commerce,  contrast  between  savage 
and  civilized  life  in  relation  to,  A. 
381—384. 
34 


398 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


Compensation  for  natural  defects, 
W.  17. 

Conclusion,  A.  391. 

Connexion  between  vegetable  and 
animal  kingdoms,  Su.  141. 

Constitution,  human,  adapted  to  the 
seasons,  W.  292—294. 

Contrivances  in  nature,  W.  21. 
Prospective  in  birds,  Sp.  163. 

Coral  insect,  Su.  156.  Formation 
of,  157. 

Cordage,  vegetable  substances  used 
for,  Sp.  342. 

Corn-plants,  origin  of,  Sp.  295. 
Kinds  of,  301.  Distribution  of, 
301.  Wheat,  303.  Barley,  310. 
Oats,  314.  Rice,  317.  "Maize, 
320.  Millet,  321.  Progress  of 
vegetation  in,  27 — 31. 

Corn,  storing  of,  A.  53 — 57. 

Corncocklemuir,  geological  remains 
in,  W.  356,  378. 

Cotton,  when  first  mentioned,  A. 
195,  196.  Foreign  history  of  the 
manufacture,  2l0 — 214.  British 
history  of  the  manufacture,  219 — 
231. 

Cotton  plant,  Sp.  338. 

Cow,  the,  Su.  3 18.  In  Asia  and 
Africa,  319.     In  Europe,  320. 

Cow-tree  of  the  Cordilleras,  A.  136. 

Craigleith  quarry,  geological  remains 
in,  W.  378. 

Creator,  power  and  intelligence  of 
the,  Sp.  380.     Goodness  of,  383. 

Crick,  aqueduct  at,  A.  323. 

Crocodile,  the,  Su.  228. . 

Crosse,  Mr.,  production  of  insects 
from  silcx,  A.  note,  106. 

Crucifixion,  the,  Sp.  354. 

Cultivation  of  soil,  probable  improve- 
ment in,  A.  104—110. 

Culture,  spiritual,  Su.  131. 

Curlew,  partial  migration  of  the, 
W.  215. 

Curlinr,  quotation  from  Grahame's 
Georgics,  W.  317. 

Currant,  the,  Su.  93. 

Cuvier,  Baron,  his  calculations  rela- 
tive to  the  deluge,  W.  369—375. 

Cycle,  annual,  adjustment  of  plants 
to,  W.  153—157. 

D 

Daily  bread,   prayer  for,  A.  158— 


Darning,  the  first  approach  to  wear- 
ing, A.  184. 

Date,  the,  Su.  118. 

Day  flies,  Su.  182. 

Day  and  night,  alternation  of,  W. 
79-82.    ^ 

Death,  winter  an  emblem  of,  W.  264 
—267. 

Decay,  process  of,  in  mountainous 
regions,  W.  336. 

Defects  in  nature  compensated  for, 
W.  17. 

Deluge,  its  geological  period  corres- 
ponds with  that  of  Scripture,  W. 
368—375.  Effects  of,  on  the 
present  surface,  376 — 380.  A  di- 
vine judgment,  381 — 387.  Cu- 
vier's  calculations  relative  to,  369 
—372,  375. 

Deposit,  geological,  successive  pe- 
riods of,  W.  355—360. 

Develonment  of  seeds  and  plants, 
Sp.  65. 

Dew,  Su.  35—39.  Scriptural  allu- 
sions to,  39. 

Diluvium,  Sp.  50. 

Discipline,  Su.  388.  The  world  a 
state  of,  W.  91—96. 

Dissemination  of  plants,  Sp.  276. 

Divine  strength  made  perfect  in  hu- 
man weakness,  A.  301. 

Dog,  the,  sagacity  of,  in  snow,  W. 
338—344.  Shepherd's,  Su.  313. 
Anecdotes  of,  3 14 — 318. 

Domestic  fowls,  Su.  262 — 266.  Ani- 
mals, reflections  on,  332. 

Draining,  Sp.  267. 

Dreaming,  W.  86—92. 

Drink,  A.  124—127. 

Duck,  the,  Su.  265. 

Dwellings  of  Esquimaux,  W.  306 — 

Dyeing,  early  art  of,  A.  189-191. 
Its  ancient  history,  240.  Its 
modern  history,  248.  Its  chemi- 
cal principles,  250.  Nitrate  of 
tin,  249. 


Eagle,  the,  Su.  270.     Nests  of,  Sp. 

108. 
Ear,  adaptations  to  the,  Su.  44. 
Earth,   globular   figure  of,    W.   24. 

Rotation  of,  25.      Inclination   of 

axis,  26.     Internal  heat  of)  Su.  18 

—22. 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


399 


Eddystone  lighthouse,  A.  339. 
Anecdotes  respecting,  347. 

Eels,  migration  of,  W,  250—253. 

Eggs  of  insects,  Sp.  127.  Their 
deposition  in  bodies  of  animals, 
153;  in  nests  of  other  insects, 
155.  Of  birds,  157.  Hatching 
of,  206.  Glutinous  matter  sur- 
rounding those  of  insects,  W.  181. 
Cold  of  which  they  are  suscepti- 
ble without  injury,  181. 

Egyptian  architecture,  A.  273.  Elec- 
tricity, Su.  26—30. 

Electro-magnetic  engine,  A.  338. 

Elephant,  the,  Su.  329.  Migration 
of,  W.  223.     Anecdote  of,  175. 

Embroidering,  early  art  of,  A. 
190. 

Endogenous  plants,  Su.  48. 

Engrafting,  Su.  88—90. 

Enjoyment,  equally  distributed,  Sp. 
367.  Of  poor  in  spring,  371. 
Derived  from  food,  A.  151. 

Epoch,  geological,  primary,  W.  354. 
Transition,  354.  Secondary,  358. 
Tertiary,  360.     Mosaic,  361. 

Esculent  roots,  Sp.  325. 

Esquimaux,  their  mode  of  life,  W. 
300.  Their  food,  301.  Their 
clothing,  305.  Their  dwellings, 
306—308.  Their  fuel,  308.  Their 
dogs,  341. 

Evergreens,  their  condition  in  win- 
ter, W.  349—351. 

Evils,  natural,  converted  into  bless- 
ings, W.  20. 

Existence,  future,  Su.  384. 

Existences,  organized,  Su.  377. 

Exogenous  plants,  Su.  49. 

Eye,  the,  adaptations  to,  Su.  44 
Of  birds,  239. 


Fairholme,  his  account  of  the  de- 
posits of  a  mountain  torrent,  W. 
375. 

Fallof  theleaf,  A.  361. 

Falling  stars,  not  connected  with 
the  Ignis  fatuus,  W.  36.  Account 
of,  51. 

Felt,  an  early  manufacture,  A.  183. 

Fermented  liquors,  abuses  of,  A. 
140. 

Figure,  of  bodies,  Sp.  21.  Weaving, 
A.  205. 

Fishes,  migration  of,  W.  338—253. 


Their  reproductive  instincts,  Sp. 
117.    Their  structure,  Su.  341. 

Fixed  stars,  distance  of  the,  W. 
126—129. 

Flavour,  A.  153. 

Flax,  Sp.  330.  Early  used  in  ma- 
nufactures, A.  195. 

Flowers,  their  form,  Sp.  79.  Colour, 
81.  Reproductive  organs,  83. 
Agency  of  insects  on,  87.  Secre- 
tion of  honey,  87.  The  rose,  Su. 
80—84. 

Foliations  of  ice  on  window-glass, 
W.  333. 

Food,  human,  its  principle,  A.  82 — 
86.  Moral  operation  of,  86—90. 
Its  supply  not  inadequate,  91 — 95. 
Provision  of,  for  the  future,  100 — 
1 16.  Animal  and  vegetable,  1 16 — 
119.  Fruits,  their  qualities,  120 
—124.  Drink,  124—127.  Milk, 
132—137.  Wine,  137—140.  Tea 
and  coffee,  141-145.  Sugar,  145 
— 151.  The  enjoyments  afforded 
by,  151 — 154.  Comparison  be- 
tween the  food  of  savage  and  civ- 
ilized man,  155—158.  Of  birds, 
Su.  230.  Of  Esquimaux,  W. 
301—304. 

Fowls,  domestic,  Su.  258. 

French  agriculture,  A.  172 — 174. 

Frost,  W.  311—339. 

Fruits,  their  qualities,  A.  120 — 124. 
Power  of  preserving,  122 — 123. 
History  of  various,  Su.  84 — 87. 

Fuel  of  Esquimaux,  W,  309. 

Future  existence,  Su.  384. 

G 

Gall-fly,  Sp.  148.     Nuts,  151. 

Gastric  juice,  Sp.  10.3. 

General  laws,  government  of  the 
world  by,  A.  364—368. 

Geology,  W.  346—381. 

Gethsemane,  ohves  in  garden  of,  A. 
26. 

Gilpin,  Mr.,  his  remarks  on  autum- 
nal tints  of  the  woods,  A.  64. 

Gipsey-moth,  mode  of  protecting  its 
eggs  in  winter,  W.  78. 

Gleaning,  A.  40. 

Goat,  the,  Su.  301 . 

God — his  goodness  to  rational  crea- 
tures, W.  13.  His  Omnipresence, 
61.  Of  seeing  Him  in  his  works, 
IQQ — X71,     His  greatness  even  in 


400 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


the  smallest  things,  202 — 205. 
Proofs  of  his  benevolence  in  crea- 
tion, 233 — 237.  His  unceasing 
and  universal  providence,  295— 
299.  Difficulty  of  comprehending 
his  operations,  350 — 353. 

Gold,  early  used  in  clothing,  A.  191. 

Golden  plover,  partial  migration  of, 
W.  215. 

Goose,  the,  Su.  262.  Anecdotes  of, 
2G3— 265. 

Gooseberry,  the,  Su.  91. 

Gothic  style,  A.  311. 

Grahame's  British  Georgics,  descrip- 
tion of  ignis  fatuus,  VV.  57. 

Grave,  the,  8p.  359. 

Gravitation,  *VV.  99. 

Greeks,  ancient,  their  agriculture,  A. 
162—165.  Their  architecture,  297 
—300.     Females,  their  dress,  193. 

Greenland  whale-fishery,  W.  244. 

Gregarious  habits  of  birds,  Su.  251. 

Grossbeak,  the,  Sp.  192, 

Ground-swell  in  the  ice,  W.  326. 

H 
Harvest,  A.  32—35.   Of  Greeks,  164. 

Of  Romans,  167.     The  end  of  the 

world,  388. 
Harvest-home,  A.  49—53. 
Harvest-moon,  A.  45 — 49. 
Hassar,  the  flat-head,  its  migration 

overland,  VV.  248. 
Hatching  of  eggs,  Sp.  206. 
Hay-making,  Su.  374. 
Heat,  increased,  Su.  13.     Internal, 

of  the  earth,  18. 
Heathcoat's  steam  plough,  note,  A. 

108. 
Heaven,   its  moral   and  intellectual 

enjoyments,  A.  215.     Its  social  and 

religious  enjoyments,  244. 
Heiup,  Sp.  342. 
Hen,  the,  maternal  affection  of,  Sp. 

123. 
Hercules,  Tyrian,  tradition  concern- 

inff,  A.  192. 
Herrings,    migration    of,    W.    211. 

Numbers  of,  yearly  taken,  212. 
Hersche/  on  binary  stars,  W.  230 — 

232. 
Hindoo  architecture,  A.  282. 
Hoar-frost,  W.  331. 
Hog,  the,  Su.  322.      Fecundity  of, 

o'£S, 
Honey,  secretion  of,  Sp.  87.  j 


Hop-gathering,  A.  33. 

Horse,  the,  Su.  325.  Instance  of  its 
aversion  to  sugar,  A.- 148. 

Horticulture,  Su.  51—99.  Princi- 
ples on  which  founded,  51.  His- 
tory of,  55. 

Humboldt,  his  account  of  the  banana 
tree,  A.  111. 

Humming-bird,  nest  building  of,  Sp. 

I 

Ice,  provision  for  its  floating,  W.  310 
— ^313.  Its  expansive  and  non- 
conducting power,  314.  Amuse- 
ments connected  with,  316.  Curl- 
ing, 317.     Its  flmtastic  forms,  318. 

Icelandic  do^,  anecdote  of,  VV.  345. 

Ichneumon  By,  Sp.  155. 

Ignis  fatuus,  VV.  33.  Falhng  stars 
not  connected  with,  36. 

Imago,  or  perfect  state  of  insects,  Su. 
179. 

Inertia,  W^.  100. 

Infusory  animalcules,  W.  146—150. 

Insects,  in  winter,  eggs  of,  W.  177 — 
182;  chrysahs,  state  of,  182;  cat- 
erpillar state  of,  183  ;  perfect  state 
of,  184.  Agency  of,  on  reproduc- 
tive organs  of  flowers,  Sp.  87. 
Reproductive  instincts  of,  117. 
Reproduction  of,  127 — 157.  Eggs 
of,  155.  Their  cocoons,  Su.  165. 
Their  larva  state,  170.  Their  pupa 
state,  174.  Their  imago  state,  179. 
Coral,  156.  Silk-worm,  166.  Ant, 
179.     Spider,  184—191. 

Instinct   and  reason  compared,  Sp. 

Instincts  of  plants,  W,  164.  Of  Ani- 
mals, 166.  In  connexion  with  re- 
production, Sp.  116,  211,  213.  Of 
the  young.  214. 

Irrigation,  Sp.  269. 

Italian  agriculture,  A.  174 — 178. 


Jacquard-loom,  A.  205. 
Juice,  gastric,  Sp.  105. 


Karnac,  A.  276. 

Kidd,  Dr.,  analogy  drawn  by  him  be- 
tween vegetables  and  animals  des- 
tined for  human  food,  A.  118,  119. 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


401 


Kimlang,  his  eulogium  on  tea,  A. 

143. 
Knowledge,  divine  and  human,  com- 

oared,  W.  117. 


Labour,  agricultural,  Sp.  239.  Ben- 
efits from  principles  which  stimu- 
late to,  245.  Blessings  of,  248. 
Distribution  of,  over  the  year,  290. 

Land-crab,  migration  of  the,  W,  259 
—263. 

Language  of  birds,  Su.  244.  Of  man, 
369.     One,  392. 

Larvse  of  silk-worm,  Su.  166.  Of 
other  insects,  1 70. 

Lea,  Rev.  William,  his  stocking-loom, 
A.  202. 

Legionary  ant,  Su.  195.  Ruber's 
account  of  196. 

Leguminous  plants,  Sp.  321. 

Lettuce,  the,  Su.  76. 

Life,  vegetable,  in  Polar  regions,  Su. 
135. 

Light,  without  heat,  W.  34.  Phos- 
phorescence, 40.  Its  effects  on 
vegetation,  Sp.  68.  Increased,  Su. 
22—26.     Spiritual,  69. 

Lion,  reproductive  instincts  of  the, 
Sp.  212. 

Lion-ant,  Su.  200. 

Liverpool  and  Manchester  railway, 
A.  326. 

Locomotive  power,  A.  328.  Prospec- 
tive improvement  of,  333. 

Lombardy,  agriculture  of,  A.  1 75. 

Loom,  description  of  the,  A.  184. 

Lord,  the  same,  over  all,  Sp.  100. 

Love,  Christian,  Sp.  226. 

Lyell,  Mr.,  his  remarks  on  the  depos- 
its of  the  Ganges,  W.  373.  Kis 
Pliocene  period,  380. 

M 

Machinery,  improvements  of,  A.  224 
—228. 

Macnish's  account  of  physical  effects 
of  sleep,  W.  note,  86. 

Maize,  Sp.  320. 

Malaria,  its  ravages  in  Italy,  A.  176. 

Malthus,  his  theory  respecting  sup- 
ply of  food,  A.  84.  Quotation 
from,  86.  His  account  of  the  in- 
crease of  population  in  America, 
note,  103. 

Man,  Su.  345—364.    His  external 


structure,  345.  Intellectual  pow- 
ers, 349.  Moral  powers,  352, 
Effects  of  protracted  childhood  on 
himself,  Sp.  219 ;  on  parents  and 
society,  222.  In  winter,  W.  282 
294. 

Maple  sugar,  A.  149. 

Marco  Polo,  his  account  of  silk 
manufacture  in  China,  A.  203. 
Of  the  cotton  manufacture,  211. 

Maremma,  the,  of  Italy,  its  agricul- 
tural state,  A.  176,  177. 

Materials  originally  employed  in  ar- 
chitecture, A.  257. 

Maternal  affection,  Sp.  123.  Of  the 
hen,  123.     Of  the  spider,  125. 

Mattress,  principle  of  the,  A.  183, 
184. 

May-bug,  the,  W.  198. 

Mechanical  contrivances,  their  ap- 
plication to    agriculture,  A.  108. 

Medes,  their  dress,  A.  193. 

Membranes,  Sp.  94. 

Menai  bridge,  A.  319. 

Mentz,  fortress  of,  corn  stored  in, 
A.  55. 

Meteoric  showers,  W.  47. 

Microscope,  the  wonders  of,  W.  140, 
146—150. 

Milk,  A.  132—137. 

Millet,  Sp.  321 . 

Mirror  of  the  months,  remarks 
therein  on  the  effects  of  autum- 
nal vegetation  on  trees,  A.  63. 

Missel  thrush,  Sp.  209. 

Mohammed,  anecdote  of,  W.  298. 

Moral  cultivation,  contrast  between 
savage  and  civilized  life  in  relation 
to,  A.  384. 

Mordants,  A.  251 

Morning,  Sabbath,  Sp.  307. 

Mosaic  account  of  creation  consis- 
tent with  the  phenomena  of  Ge- 
ology, W.  346—347. 

Moss,  Blair-Drummond,  Sp.  27J. 

Moth,  the,  Sp.  143. 

Mountainous  regions,  agency  of 
frost  in,  W.  328.  Process  of  de- 
cay, 329. 

Mountains,  Sp.  23.  Advantage  of, 
24.  Influence  on  climate,  25. 
Repositaries  of  minerals,  26. 
Moral  effects  of,  27. 

Mouse,  Su.  295.  Harvest,  295. 
Meadow,  296.  Jumping,  297. 
Common,  297. 


402 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


Mulberry  paper,  its  use  in  clothing, 

A.  75. 
Muscular  power,  Sp.  106. 
Musk-ox,  migration  of  the,  W.  221 . 

N 

Nature,  character  of,  W.  16.  De- 
fect and  compensation  apparent 
in,  17.  Its  evils  converted  into 
blessings,  19.  Contrivances  in, 
20.  Analogy  of,  Sp.  70.  Stabil- 
ity of,  A.  35. 

Natural  philosophy,  its  application 
to  agriculture,  A.  107. 

Nautilus,  the,  Su.  154. 

Nebulae,  numbers  and  nafcure  of,  W. 
133—137. 

Nest-building  of  the  eagle,  Sp.  188. 
Woodpecker.  189.  Magpie,  191. 
Grossbeak,  192.  Humming-bird, 
194.     Swallow,  201. 

New- Year's  day,  reflections  on,  W. 
253. 

Nichol,  Dr.,  his  remarks  on  the  re- 
sisting medium,  W.  115,  116.  On 
nebulae,  136. 

Nineveh,  A.  292. 

Nutt,  Mr.,  his  mode  of  extracting 
honey  without  killing  the  bees, 
W.  192. 

Nutweavil,  the,  W.  198. 


Oak,  the,  its  use  in  ship-building, 
A.  77. 

Oats,  Sp.  314.     Varieties  of,  315. 

Oil,  vegetable  fixed,  Su.  119.  Olive, 
119.  Lintseed,  121.  Hempseed, 
121.  Sesamum,  or  oil-plant,  121. 
Cocoa-nut,  122.  Essential  and 
em[)yreumatic,  122. 

Olive,  tree,  Su.  119.  Oil,  119.  In 
garden  of  Gethsemane,  A.  26. 

Onion,  the,  Su.  76. 

Oranges,  their  peculiar  structure, 
A.  123. 

Orchard,  the,  Su.  94. 

Organs,  sensorial,  Su.  144. 

Organized  existences,  successive  pe- 
riods of,  W.  360—363.  Their  va- 
riety, beauty,  and  utility,  Su. 
377. 

Origin  of  agricultural  labour,  Sp. 
234.  Of  property  in  the  soil, 
238.  Of  division  of  ranks,  240. 
Of  corn-plants,  295. 


Pain,  a  blessing,  W.  20. 

Pairing  of  birds,  Sp.  177—179.  Of 
Guinea  parrots,  178.  Of  the 
blackcap,  180. 

Palm-tree,  the,  Su.  48.  The  go- 
muti,  its  uses,  A.  75. 

Paper,  vegetable  substances  usedfcr, 
Sp.  346. 

Parental  affection,  Sp.  121.  Of  the 
wren,  124.  Cock,  126.  Ant, 
147.  Care  of  the  bee,  137. 
Wasp,  141.     Turkey  cock,  182. 

Parrots,  guinea,  Sp.  178. 

Parry,  Captain,  his  account  of  Es- 
quimaux dogs,  W.  340. 

Particular  providence,  government 
of  the  world  by  a,  A.  368. 

Peacock,  the,  Su.  262. 

Peas,  Sp.  322. 

Pentecost,  day  of,  Su.  392. 

Perfections,  divine  arguments  in  fa- 
vour of,  Sp.  231. 

Petra,  A.  293. 

Pharos  lighthouse,  A.  339. 

Phenomena,  atmospheric,  Su.  26 — 
30. 

Phosphorescence,  W.  40. 

Physiological  condition  of  plants  in 
winter,  W.  157—161,  164. 

Physiology,  vegetable,  Sp.  79. 

Pigeons,  migration  of,  in  America, 
VV.  215. 

Pine-trees,  their  uses,  A.  76,  77. 

Planetary  system,  W.  102—104. 
Relative  proportions  of  the,  124 
—129. 

Plants  compared  with  animals,  W. 
150 — 161.  Adjustment  to  annual 
cycle,  153 — 157.  Physiological 
condition  in  winter,  157 — 164. 
Vital  principle  in  winter,  159. 
Rapidity  of  growth  in  cold  cli- 
mates, 163.  Instinct,  164.  Ex- 
ogenous and  endogenous,  Su.  48. 
Leguminous,  Sp.  321.  Flax,  330. 
Cotton,  338.  Hemp,  342.  Dis- 
tribution, 16.  Development,  65. 
Dissemination,  275,  282.  Agents 
in  developing,  66.  Qualities,  68. 
Tendencies,  68.  Vital  powers, 
75.  Secretion,  75.  Exhalation 
of  oxygen  gas,  78.  Respiration, 
78.     Corn,  295—306. 

Plum,  the,  Su.  95. 

Polar   Regions,  appearance  of  Au- 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


403 


rora  Borealis  in,  W.  45.  Inhabi- 
tants of  the,  299—310.  Adapta- 
tion of  organized  existences  to, 
73.     Effects  of  frost  in,  324. 

Pontcysylte  aqueduct,  A.  324. 

Potato,  the,  Sp.  325.  Rapid  repro- 
duction, 328.  Disease,  328.  Pro- 
lilic  quaUties,  A.  112. 

Power-loom,  A.  206. 

Power,  muscular,  Sp.  106. 

Powers,  intellectual,  of  man,  Su. 
349.     Moral,  352. 

Predaceous  animals,  their  offices  in 
nature,  Su.  274. 

Prey,  birds  of,  Su.  267—274. 

Privation  stimulates  the  faculties, 
W.  282—287. 

Proof  of  creative  wisdom  derived 
from  the  animal  frame,  Sp.  107. 

Property  in  the  soil,  origin  of,  Sp. 
238.     Effects  of,  242. 

Providence  unceasing;  and  universal, 
W.  295—299.  Difficulty  of  com- 
prehending operations  of,  350 — 
353. 

Provision  for  comfort  in  winter,  W. 
286—291. 

Prout,  Dr.,  his  experiments  on 
wood,  as  convertible  into  human 
food,  A.  115. 

Pupa  or  chrysalis  state  of  insects, 
Su.  174. 

Purple,  early  use  of,  A.  192. 

Pyramids,  the,  A.  277. 

a 

Quadrupeds,  their  reproductive  in- 
stincts, Sp.  119.  Characteristics, 
Su.  283.  Bodily  organs,  287. 
Ruminating,  299—304.  Migra- 
tion of,  W.  221—224.  Their 
clothing,  267 — 272. 

R 

Rabbit,  the  reproductive  instincts  of, 
Sp.  213. 

Railway,  Stockton  and  Darlington, 
A.  326.  Liverpool  and  Man- 
chester, 326. 

Rain,  Sp.  28.  Poetical  description 
of,  when  suddenly  frozen,  W.  333. 

Rainbow,  W.  381. 

Raney,  M.  de,  his  account  of  de- 
posits at  the  mouth  of  the  Po,  W. 
371. 

Rattan,  the,  its  uses,  A.  75. 


Reaping,  mode  of,  among  ancient 
Romans,  A,  166.  Machine  used 
in  ancient  Gaul,  166. 

Reason  and  instinct,  difference  be- 
tween, affording  arguments  for 
divine  perfection,  Sp.  231. 

Red  snow,  Su.  138. 

Regeneration,  Sp.  16G. 

Rein-deer,  the,  its  adaptation  to 
northern  regions,  W.  71.  Its  mi- 
grations, 223. 

Reproduction  among  plants,  Sp.  84. 
Lower  orders  of  animals,  108, 
127,  136,  143,  148,  153,  157. 
Higher  orders 'of  animals,  113. 
Instincts  connected  with,  116, 
176,  210,  213. 

Reptiles,  Su.  212—221.  Saurian, 
221. 

Relative  position  of  birds,  Su.  230. 

Religion,  natural,  use  and  deficiency 
of;  Sp.  387. 

Resisting  medium, — Its  existence, 
W.  112.     Its  effects,  113— 116. 

Resurrection,  Sp.  363. 

Retrospective  view  of  the  argument, 
Su.  381—392. 

Revolution,  annual  of  the  earth,  W. 
26. 

Rice,  Sp.  318. 

Rice-bird,  its  migration,  W.  218. 

Rivers,  formation  of,  Sp.  45.  Num- 
bers of,  46.     Uses  of,  47. 

Romans,  ancient,  their  dress,  A. 
J  94.  Architecture,  305.  Agri- 
culture, 165—168. 

Rome,  infested  with  malaria,  A. 
176. 

Roots,  esculent,  Sp.  325. 

Rose,  the,  Su.  80. 

Rotary  steam-engine,  A.  note,  334. 

Rotation,  diurnal,  of  earth,  W.  25. 

Rudyerd,  Mr.,  his  lighthouse  on  the 
Eddystone  rocks,  A.  342. 

Ruminating  quadrupeds,  Su.  318. 


Sabbath  morning,  Sp.  307.  Even- 
ing, A.  330. 

Sacrament  of  the  Supper,  Sp.  350. 

Sadler,  Mr.,  disputes  Mr.  Malthus 
facts,  A.  note,  103. 

Sago-tree,  the,  Su.  108. 

St.  Bernard,  dogs  employed  by  the 
monks  of,  W.  341 . 

Salmon,  migration  of  the,  W.  340. 


404 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


Sanguine  ant,  the,  Su.  197. 

Satellites,  the,  W.  120—123. 

Saurian  reptiles,  Su.  225. 

Savage  and  civiUzed  life  contrasted 
in  relation  to  food,  A.  155.  To 
the  arts,  374.  To  domestic  com- 
forts, 377.  To  commerce,  381. 
To  moral  cultivation,  384. 

Schauffliausen,  bridge  at,  A.  319. 

Science,  true,  Sp.  333. 

Seasons,  adaptation  of  organized 
existences  to  the,  VV.  56.  Their 
mitigation  by  culture,  Sp.  286. 

Secretion  of  honey,  Sp.  87.  Ani- 
mal, 96.  • 

Sedan,  castle  of,  corn  stored  in,  A.  55. 

Seeds,  their  power  to  retain  the  vital 
principle,  Sp.  60.  Their  lon^  vi- 
tality at  Bushy  Park,  62.  Near 
Moffat,  63.  Planted  by  birds,  64. 
Preservation  of,  58.  Develop- 
ment of,  65.      Distribution  of,  60. 

Sensation,  Su.  148. 

Senses,  Su.  144. 

Serpent,  the,  Su.  217.  The  old, 
221. 

Shave's  account  oi  an  ignis  fatuus, 
W.  35. 

Sheep,  the,  Su.  302.  Shearing, 
304.  Adaptation  of  their  clothing 
to  climate,  VV.  268. 

Shepherd's  dog,  anecdotes  of,  W. 
343. 

Sherlock,  Bishop,  his  view  of  the 
antediluvian  world  refuted,  W. 
note,  366. 

Shetland,  appearance  of  aurora  bo- 
realis  in,  W.  45. 

Siberia,  appearance  of  aurora  bo- 
realis  in,  W.  45.  Rapid  growth 
of  vegetation  in,  164. 

Sybil,  origin  of  superstition  concern- 
ing, A.  note,  42. 

Silk,  early  used  by  the  Chinese,  A. 
197.  When  and  how  introduced 
into  Europe,  197.  Modern  his- 
tory of  the  manufacture,  198 — 
202,  Mechanical  contrivances 
connected  with  it,  203 — 206. 
Rearing  the  cocoons,  207 — 210. 

Silk-worm,  Su.  166.  Its  cocoons, 
166.  Larvae,  170.  Chrysalis  state, 
174.  Imago  or  perfect  state,  179. 
Mode  of  rearing  it,  A.  207.  Quan- 
tity of  silk  produced  by,  208— 
210. 


Size  of  bodies,  Sp.  23. 

Skin,  the  peculiarly  suisitive,  W. 
20. 

Skins  of  animals  the  earliest  clothing, 
A.  182.  ^' 

Slavery,  modern,  its  criminality,  A. 
146. 

Sleep,  W.  83 — 86.  Dreaming  in,  86 
— 90.     Somnambuhsm,  88. 

Smeaton,  ]Mr.,  his  ingenious  archi- 
tecture, A.  343. 

Snail,  hybernation  of  the,  W.  194 — 
196. 

Snow,  beneficent  contrivances  rela- 
tive to,  W.  335—339.  Sagacity 
of  dog  in,  339—345.  Red,  Su. 
138. 

Snow-bunting,  the,  migrates  to  Spitz- 
bergen,  W.  213. 

Soil,  the  property  in,  Sp.  238.  Na- 
ture of,  256.  Formation  of,  259. 
Management  of,  264.  Sandy,  265. 
Gravelly,  265.  Peat,  266.  Drain- 
ing of,  at  Spottiswoode,  268.  Irri- 
gation of,  270.  Blair  Drummond 
Moss,  271.  Products  of,  275.  Ve- 
getable, 49.  Geological  theory  of, 
51.  Properties  of,  52.  Still  un- 
cultivated, A.  100.  Spiritual,  Su. 
99. 

Solar  system,  its  tendency  to  derange- 
ment counteracted,  VV.  109 — 111. 

Somerville,  Mrs.,  account  of  meteo- 
ric showers,  VV.  48. 

Somnambulism,  VV.  89 — 93. 

Sower,  the,  Sp.  279. 

Spain,  corn  stored  in,  A.  note,  55. 

Spectacle  de  la  Nature,  its  eulogium 
on  wine,  A.  139. 

Spider  building,  Su.  185.  W^eb  of, 
187.  Water,  189.  Bird,  190.  Ma- 
ternal affection  of,  Sp.  125. 

Spinach,  the,  Su.  75. 

Spiritual  light,  Su.  69.  Soil,  99. 
Culture,  131.  Transformations, 
191. 

Spitzbergen,  snow-bunting  migrates 
to,  W.  213. 

Spring,  character  of,  Sp.  9.  Grad- 
ual progress,  13. 

Springs,  Sp.  33. 

Stability  of  nature,  A.  35. 

Starry  heavens,  general  remarks,  W, 
95 — 99.  Principle  of  gravitation 
and  inertia  in,  99 — 102.  The  plan- 
etary system,  102 — 105.    The  sun 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


405 


the  source  of  light  and  heat,  105 — 
107.  Motions  of  the  planets,  107 
— 111.  Resisting  medium.  111 — 
117.  The  satellites,  120—122. 
Relative  proportions  of  planetary 
system,  122 — 126.  Distance  of 
fixed  stars,  1 26 — 1 30.  Inmensity 
of  universe,  130 — 132.  Nebulae, 
132—137.  Binary  stars,  137—141. 

Steam-plough,  A.  note,  108.  Power, 
introduction  of,  228—231. 

Stocking- loom  invented  by  Rev. 
William  Lea,  A.  202. 

Stockings,  silk,  anecdotes  concern- 
ing, A.  200. 

Stork,  its  migration,  W.  211. 

Strawberry,  as  an  article  of  food,  A. 
120. 

Structure,  animal,  Sp.  92 — 99.  Ex- 
ternal, of  man,  Su.  345. 

Substances,  vegetable,  Sp.  299—350. 

Substantive  colours,  A.  345. 

Sugar,  A.  145—151. 

Summer  the  perfection  of  the  year, 
Su.  9. 

Sun,  tke,  the  source  of  light  and  heat, 
W.  103,  105—107. 

Swallow,  the,  nests  of,  Sp.  201.  At 
MillfieldhiU,  203.  In  Java,  204. 
Its  autumnal  migration,  A.  61. 
Supposed  to  migrate  to  Africa,  W. 

Swine,  adaptation  of  their  clothing 
to  climate,  W.  268, 


Tallow-tree,  Su.  126. 

Tam worth,  great  tree  of,  A.  26. 

Tanning,  vegetable  substances  used 
for,  Su.  115. 

Tar,  Su.  123. 

Tea,  A.  141—145. 

Teak  tree,  its  use  in  ship-building, 
A.  77. 

Telescope  and  microscope,  discover- 
ies of,  W.  142—145. 

Temperate  regions,  adaptatiorf  of  or- 
ganized existences  to,  W.  69. 

Temples,  excavated,  A.  283. 

Texture,  cellular,  Sp.  92. 

Thebes,  its  architectural  remains,  A. 
275. 

Thick-skinned  quadrupeds,  Su.  321 
—332. 

Thrashing,  mode  of,  among  ancient 
Romans,  A.  167. 


Thrush,  missel,  Sp.  208. 

Timber,  its  various  kinds  and  adap- 
tations, A.  74. 

Tongues,  confusion  of,  Su.  364. 

Tools,  originally  employed  in  archi- 
tecture, A.  261. 

Tortoise,  the,  Su.  212.  Vitality  of, 
215. 

Transformations,  insect,  Su.  165. 
Spiritual,  191. 

Tree,  palm,  Su.  48.  Apple,  95. 
Plum,  95.  Cherry,  99.  Banana, 
105.  Sago,  108.  Date,  108.  Oak, 
116.  Olive,  120.  Tallow,  126. 
Wax,  127. 

Trees,  longevity  of,  A.  26,  Used 
for  building,  Su.  112. 

Tropical  regions,  adaptation  of  or- 
ganized existences  to,  W.  64 — 68. 

Tunnel,  the  Thames,  A.  348. 

Turkey,  the,  Su.  259.  Anecdotes 
of,  260—262.    Sp.  182. 

Turner,  Sharon,  his  speculations  on 
the  adequate  supply  of  food,  A. 
91—94,  101,  102,  108—110,  113, 
114. 

Turnip,  the,  Su.  60.  Anecdotes  re- 
garding, 62,  63. 

Tuscany,  agriculture  of,  A.  175. 

U 

Uniformity  in  the  natural  and  moral 

world,  Sp,  132. 
Union  canal  aqueduct,  A.  324, 
Universe,  immensity  of  the,  W.  130 

—132. 


Vanessa,  some  species  survive  the 
winter,  W.  155. 

Vegetable  soil,  Sp.  49.  Physiology, 
79.  Substances,  299.  Substances 
used  for  weaving,  330,  338.  For 
cordage,  342.  For  paper,  346. 
In  tanning,  Su.  115.  Oak,  116. 
Oils,  1 19.  Life  in  polar  regions, 
135.  Creation,  balance  preserved 
in,  W.  76. 

Vegetables,  growth  of,  Su.  47.  Va- 
rious garden,  73, 

Vegetation,  progress  of,  Sp.  53 — 70. 
Properties  of,  56.  Effects  of  Ught 
upon,   67. 

Vicissitude,  advantages  of,  Sp.  39, 

View,  retrospective,  of  the  argument, 
Sp,  380—387, 


406 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


Vine,  cultivation  of,  in  France,  A. 

173. 
Violet,  the,  Sp.  88. 
Vision  of  birds,  Su.  238.    Carrier 

pigeon,  240. 
Vulture,  the,  Su.  267. 

W 
Waltire's  account  of  ignesfatui,  W. 

36. 
Wasp,  the  parental  care  of,  Sp.  141. 

Anecdote  of,  W.  176. 
Wax-tree,  Su.  127. 
Weather,  increasing  temperature  of 

the,  Sp.  14. 
Weavers  of  India  and  China,  their 

mode  of  manufacture,  A.  203. 
Weaving,  vegetable  substances  used 

for,  Sp.  330. 
Wells,  Artesian,  Sp.  35. 
Whale,  the,  W.  241,  245.     Suckles 

its  young,  A.  note,  134. 
Wheat,  Sp.  303.     Produce  of,  304. 
Whewell  on  the  atmosphere,  W.  31 

— 33.     On  alternation  of  day  and 

night,  82.     On  regularity  of  Solar 

System,  109.  On  fixed  stars,  129. 


Wild  ducks,  curious  anecdote  of,  W. 
169. 

Wine,  A.  137—140. 

Winstanley,  Mr.,  his  lighthouse  on 
the  Eddystone  rocks,  A.  341. 

Winter,  general  aspect  of,  W.  38. 
An  emblem  of  death,  264—268. 
Not  monotonous,  320 — 324. 

Woodpecker,  the,  Sp.  189.  NeBt- 
building  of,  189. 

Woods,  the,  Sp.  375.  Their  au- 
tumnal appearance,  A.  63.  Their 
uses,  70 — 74. 

Wool,  early  used  in  manufactures, 
A.  195. 

Woollen  manufacture,  British  his- 
tory of,  A.  231—236. 

World,  the,  destruction  of,  Su.  337. 
Future  state  of,  338.  To  come, 
the  powers  of,  A.  66 — 70. 

Wren,  parental  affection  of,  Sp.  124. 


Yellovir  hammer,  the,  Sp.  207. 
Young,  instincts  of,  Sp.  214.     Of 
brutes,  215.    Of  birds,  217. 


Prdicpton   ThtoloqicJl  Semrn,iry-Spee 


1    1012  01007  0607 


